


The Nuclear Family

by Kloue



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Break Up, Child Abuse, Comedy, Daddy Issues, Dysfunctional Relationships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Homelessness, Homophobia, M/M, Marijuana, Out of Character, Past Child Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rich!Eren, Romantic Comedy, Self-Hatred, Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Top Eren Yeager, Unrequited Love, alcoholic!levi, everyone laughs about Levi being an alcoholic when it's actually a real issue, lawyer!eren, roasting sessions 24/7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 112,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kloue/pseuds/Kloue
Summary: Eren Edward Jaeger, a graduate from Harvard Law School and corporate lawyer, is an anonymous writer who is looking for an outlet to his boring life. While struggling to go to his monotonous job, he also has to deal with his high electricity bills, his sad heterosexual single life, and his persistent mother living in his house who has done nothing but mooch off of him since he was eighteen.However, on a depressing day where he has to attend his father's wedding with his new bride, he finds a sudden interest in the bride's alcoholic and anger-driven son.





	1. Minnie Fucking Riperton

**Author's Note:**

> *update: so I edited the first three chapters over again and let me tell you how stupid I am. My ass over here fucking up with my proofreading. I said "peared" when I meant "peered." Lorddddd....anyways....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a nuclear family: a couple and their dependent children (the ideal household with a wife, husband, and their children)

The music playing is  _decent_  at my father's wedding. The moderate pianissimo and soft strum of the acoustic guitar blooming out of the speakers lifts my pounding headache. It did not, however, stop my overzealous mother from her inconsiderate wording that has been sprouting since we've arrived. I find that ignoring her has always been difficult, so I toss that thought away and recollect to reality.

"I'm not angry, I just think it's fucked up how he invited us, put us in the back, and didn't even have the decency to have you - a writer - write his vows!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how things work." A subtle sip of my wine. My tongue peeks out and collects the crimson residue. A tropical taste lingers, leaving my buds savoring the flavor as I scrutinize the crowd of middle-aged adults dressed in tight fabricated dresses. A shift occurs next to me with a powerful sigh following after. Slightly turning my head, I act as if I can't hear my mother's words.

"Whatever, and I'm  _not_  jealous. If anything, I'm glad your father found someone else because God knows I didn't want to deal with his  _weak, punk_ ass."

"Mom -" Finally, having enough of her sprouting nonsense and insults, I glare at her and almost slam my glass down."We are literally near the children's area. Besides, when it starts we'll head up to see better, okay?" Carla, or otherwise my mother, rolls her eyes and crosses her legs in her ruby red dress. She licks her teeth for any red lipstick and tuts her lips. Leaning in her chair, she stabs a piece of her sliced pineapple and shoves it into her mouth.

"And he gives us fruit for appetizers. I'm  _over_  it." In actuality, she isn't, because my mom is stubborn, and Mom holds burdens longer than she holds her curling iron to her hair. I roll my eyes and grip the skinny body of the transparent wine glass to take another sip. I could at least agree with her on that. The appetizers were  _shit_  if it meant to fill us up."I was hoping we'd have more, so I could barf when the kiss happens. "My Mom imitates a vomiting motion, and though I try not to fall into the childish pit of anger she has toward my father, I still snort and place my hand on my forehead.

"I don't know how you managed to raise me alone," I whisper to myself with a hint of humor in my tone. Mom looks offended for a while before she points her plastic fork to me to indicate speaking.

"Actually, you were a quiet kid." She says, "You always sat down and was always quiet. I never had any problems with you. My only problem was keeping my blood pressure low and affording my hair extensions. So really, I don't know how I managed at all." Mom pulls her plastic ivory fork out of my face. "Why would you ask such a stupid question? You were probably the most boring child." I scoff in an offense and point to my sister, Mikasa, who sat at a table in front of us with her annoying  _mammal_  husband.

" _Really_? I'm boring. Have you seen Jean? He looks like Nicolas Cage's fifty-year-old son. Mikasa has picked the epitome of a boring life." I announce proudly, defending my honor as a son with an actually interesting character. My Mom laughs so loud that people in the front tables turn to glare at us. She bangs the table, clattering the silverware, and wipes a fake tear. Speaking of the devil, Mikasa, with her silk black dress flowing from her shoulders and hair curled at the ends, turns around and analyzes us. For sure, we were pretty loud.

"What are you guys laughing at?" She asks with interest and her eyebrows scrunched up. Jean, her husband with horse-ass hair and my high-school not-so-best-friend, turns as well and puts his arm on the chair to see better. My Mom puts her hand to her chest and breathes out before answering. She flips a curl away from her glowing red face.

"Nothing sweetheart!" She flutters her hand at my sister and pushes her full, dark brown ironed hair behind to her back. "Eat your broccoli and ranch, dear!" Mikasa rolls her eyes and visibly shows her munching on a carrot. She's a vegan. She must love this shit right now. "I think your father built this wedding for Mikasa and his wife's standards. What about me?" Mom continues her rants again. I only look into the crowd and try to tune her out as much as possible. "I carried both of them for a total of nine months. Her in my stomach and his wife's load of complaints about how she wants to be a family on email. I can't even get chicken on a stick?" I sigh loudly at her and lean in my seat. My mom wiggles her nose and glares at the decorated stage almost miles away. She lifts her wine glass and before drinking, she growls out -"Stupid cu -"

"Okay." I grab the transparent glass from my Mom, giving her a comforting side look and place the glass at the far left of the table. "No more drinks. This is probably the reason we were  _put_  in the back, Mom." Mom stretches her neck at me and gives me a knowing glare.

"Why would you be back here then?" She searches my face for a precise answer. Before I can answer, Mikasa walks up behind us to search in Mom's purse. She leans over to our height and speaks.

"Because you both have the same mind. If anything, I would think you two are the fraternal twins." Mikasa pulls out a deep chocolate brown lipstick and applies it carefully by looking into her phone's reflection. "Whenever Mom is sad, Eren is sad. Whenever Eren is angry, Mom is angry. Hell, there was even a time when you both picked the same couch, bed, table, and floor decoration when you moved in together. And yes, that is surprising. You are both mutants of the mind." After finishing applying, she throws the lipstick in the purse and smacks her lips. "Unless Dad just doesn't like you."

"I'll go with that," I respond, almost offended that she considered me and Mom attached to the hip when we were in the same womb together. It's not my fault she scattered along to Jean and I found my own way afterward. Mikasa, ever since she had been with the asshole, has been more of a distant cousin that visits every month. "I never asked to be Mom's stunt double." I stubbornly cross my legs over each other and glare ahead at the wedding stage. My mom rolls her eyes and flickers her hand at the chuckling Mikasa.

"Ah, you made him mad now. Go back to your farm! Shoo!" Mikasa waddles away in her tight dress, making sure to give me a mocking wink and a shallow middle finger when she flips her hand out of her face. I ignore her and look over at Mom, who now was pouting and obviously ready to get the day over. "When are we starting?" Mom yells with a clap of her hands. "If I have to complain  _one more time_  -"

"I would like to announce the intermission of appetizers -" A clear, crisp voice announces. The lights in the building dim down, and suddenly there are fluorescent bulbs gleaming around the room - illuminating guests' faces and the individual on stage. His hazel hair was flipped over and out of his face with the sides of his head shaved down. His suit supported dark colors, such as grey, black, and deep brown. His eyes sparkled as he spoke into the microphone. "- and our special guest to sing our groom and bride's song. I would like to introduce -"

"Is this some concert?" I mutter to my Mom as I look around the room irritatingly. "We've seriously been sitting here for an hour just eating peeled apples and nasty ass celery." Ironically, just as I said those words, waiters flooded into the room with plates on their palm in the air. They selected tables and sat the plates on them - it all full of delicious sliced meats and other foods that seemed unhealthy. I sit up in my seat and yell. "Mikasa! Send them over here! It's deer and peacock!" Mikasa turns her head angrily to glare at me.

"Vegan special for my table. Sucks for you." She mouthed. I don't know how I heard her, but that didn't really matter in my head. I roll my eyes and lift my hands up in disappointment. As a waitress comes over and places a plate on our table, I hurriedly grab my fork and peek over at my Mom.

"Mikasa got the special treatment again. But look -" I point to the small, silver glass bowl full of mushrooms and garlic in front of me. "I get mushrooms. He did this on purpose. He knows I hate mushrooms."

"I like mushrooms though," Mom says. She stabs her fork into the mushy food and eats it with her hand under her chin. " _Mhm_."

"You think he gave you that 'cause he likes you? Hate to break it to you, but if he doesn't care about me - he sure as hell doesn't care about you."

"Wow, thanks Eren. It's not like we weren't married or high school sweethearts and prom king and queen and homecoming cou -"

" - a divorced couple because he decided he liked rich, black-haired women more."

"Honestly!" Mom starts, curiosity on her face as she crosses her arms. "I think it's because she doesn't have kids that are annoying. He is always getting Mikasa shit, but that's because Mikasa is the only one who stays away from him."She shakes her head and tuts her lip. "It's like he is thanking her for her distance. Pathetic. If he comes out these doors in the next five minutes I am going on stage and punching him in his di -"

_"Maybe I didn't treat you,_

_Quite as good as I should have,"_

"Oh, I like this song," I say casually, my teeth tearing the chicken on the stick apart roughly. I sway slightly to the music and chew. Suddenly, my mouth senses something wrong, as it normally does, and I spit out the chicken quickly onto the wide metal plate holding the food. Ignoring the ' _Really, Eren_ ' from my Mom, I grab a napkin and rub it on my tongue until it burned. I look at my Mom with disappointment and shock. "Mom, he put basil on this."

Silence. Mom's jaw drops and she pushes the tray away. I curl my lip up and lean in my chair while wiping the table in disgust."I fucking hate basil."I growl out."This is child abuse."

"It really is."

"Who the fuck puts basil on chicken?"

"Eren, we should lea -"

"More wine?" Me and my Mom's face's lift up at the sound of the announcer's voice near us. He holds a deep forest green bottle in his hands, tilting it to showcase its label and pricing at the top right corner. His smile shines with his overly white teeth, probably bleached a dozen times, and he pops open the bottle of wine to release the smell. "Simple velvet. Requested especially for the Jaeger family." He smiles again and pours the wine into our empty glasses. I intertwine my fingers and place them in my lap, waiting for him to finish. As he gets to Mom's glass, I speak.

"Tell my father, a special message from the Jaeger family, to order some fucking Papa Johns because this meal is shit." I grab a napkin, roll it, and throw it on the plates for dramatic effect. I ignore Mom taking clumps of food and laying it in her lap on a napkin while nodding at the man. "No offense to you sir, but we've been sitting here for the past hour and when I finally get some chicken, it tastes like any section meal of Kris Jenner's cookbook. I'm  _not_  amused."

The announcer's face is somewhat surprised, his eyes wider than dinner plates and as he pours the wine, it drizzles off to the side. Mom makes a noise and pushes the bottle away from her glass. "Listen," Mom laughs and takes the transparent glass. "- trying to get me drunk on the first date? Risky." She makes a tutting noise as she sips the overflowing wine. "Also tell him to hurry the hell up. I have a nail appointment in the morning and I refuse to stay here past eleven."

"Y-yes, Ma'am." The announcer nervously stutters out. He shuffles away toward Mikasa and her farm, having the same agenda. I cross my arms and lean back in the chair, digging my tongue into my teeth to get out the remaining pieces of chicken. I grab a napkin from the table and wipe my mouth roughly. Leaning towards my Mom, I groan outwardly.

"We should get Wendy's after this. Ugh, god." I lick my lips, "- fast food at night. Divine."

"Oh, really?" Mom gasps with a raise of her waxed eyebrows. She rolls her eyes soon after and picks up a piece of turkey meat from the expensive silver plate and places it onto a garlic cracker. "You sure you don't want to eat your 'salmon deluxe' or 'cauliflower mac and cheese' at home? Sure seems to be on the menu often."

"Hey, if I didn't cook you'd be up my ass anyways." I try not to think about how we sounded like a married couple, and how the roles have flipped from my stressful childhood. "If you want a five-star meal, find a rich boyfriend. I got enough on my back, ma'."

"Mhm." She closes her mouth, finally, since I hit a chord that she doesn't like to hear. I sigh slightly and grab the velvet cloth on the table, fiddling with it to ease the tension I had just made.

When I was eighteen, I had about two thousand dollars saved from my part-time job in high school. I decided to move away to a cheap apartment in far away Illinois, away from my poor neighborhood in New Jersey where I grew up in nothing but poverty. Soon after a year of working full time at a movie theater, I decided I had enough money to start college. I applied to the best university for my needs and majored in political science and economics, and minored in business philosophy. I joined a club for journalism and soon wrote for the university papers. So if I do say so myself, my undergraduate life was fulfilling and contained many accomplishments.

After graduating with my bachelor's degree at twenty-two, I applied for Harvard Law School. They declined at first, of course, but my friends (when I had some) encouraged it because they always saw me as a stereotypical nerd who studied every day, which I did, so that concluded my whole personality. In reality, half of the time in college when I was studying, I was daydreaming about what would happen in the next episode of RuPaul.

However, months after searching for another university to go to, Harvard reevaluated and placed me in their school on a whim. I sucked up all loans I could and went there for three years. I obtained my Juris Doctor degree and followed to become a corporate lawyer. I moved to New York, a childhood dream I always had, where I now work for _Smith's Law Firm_ at the age of twenty-eight. I now make a nice amount of money, good enough to get myself a decent house, and have a financially stable life.

This is the story I tell people at company parties. My amazing life story - how I got to where I am, so _young_ , and how I manage to be still one of the top lawyers of the company. I smile my white teeth that I brush with baking soda twice a week and sip rich champagne that always tasted like old sprite. I would then tell the story with more comedic effect and in the end, hope to have a sharp index card handed over to me just to stroke my ego.

I've never mentioned, fortunately, my mother who I had to take care of since I moved to Illinois. Who I had to make sure ate and didn't get into trouble with any of our neighbors. Who I had to come home to and hang out with all the time because she wanted bonding time, not realizing that I was a college student studying for my LSAT that would determine my life. Who is one of the reasons I don't have friends because she always comes first.

I can't blame her much though, because if it wasn't for my father leaving her strung with no money, this wouldn't have happened. If anything, I probably wouldn't have become a lawyer because I wouldn't have needed money as bad as I needed it then. I probably would have been traveling the world, as I always wanted to, and found myself enraptured in writing fictional stories - as cheesy as that is.

But I digress because Mom doesn't like to talk about it - and I don't either.

I snap out of my thoughts when the lights at the wedding simmer down, a fluorescent glow illuminating the building that was rented for more money than needed. The whole area soon had a tint of burgundy, and I remind myself that at my wedding - I want to have the lights a bright baby blue with quivering white reflections, like the inside of the ocean I've never seen before.

The pianist in the front begins to play a soft tune, and everyone begins to stand up and head over to the sides of the aisle. They completely ignored the signs at the sides of their tables, announcing that they stay in their seats the whole time for the sake of organization. However, no one really reads here, so phones are out with bright lights recording, and I spot a photographer in the corner on his knees. I decide to stand up, not looking at my Mom considering my thoughts told me not to, and head over to Mikasa and her husband. As I walk over towards here, I notice Mikasa already looks like she wants to tear up as she tells her husband that she is happy for her father. I stand next to her and stay silent.

"It's so beautiful. We should have done this." She elbows him into his side, making him groan out loud and shout how if he could afford it, he would have. That is usually the case with everyone, because without a doubt if money was never an issue the world would be perfect. I say nothing and look at the bulky doors at the end of the aisle, ready for them to open so I could get delicious ivory vanilla cake and leave in my ugly ass box mini-cooper.

 _"Hold me closer and hold me fast, this magic spell you cast."_ A soft voice sings with guitar chords following in after. _"This is La Vie En Rose."_ I roll my eyes and press my fingers in between the corners of my eyes.

"Am I at a damn indie concert or a wedding?" I whisper too loudly than I wanted to. Mikasa's face snaps over to me, and I somewhat regret my words when she slaps me with her hand held leather purse.

"Shut up," She begins with a tone that tells me she is ready to scold, but she doesn't get to. The bulky doors of the building open, showing my father dressed in a simple onyx suit with burgundy accents, such as his tie, socks, and watch. His hair is pulled into a tight bun, which I remember in the back of my head to make fun of with Mom later, and he is wearing the special edition glasses that he bought for almost a thousand dollars. He struts with his mom, who is my grandma I've never met, and smiles at the crowd around him. I cross my arms as lights flash around me, making me squint my eyes.

"Is this an indie concert or a wedding?" I hear Mom say next to me. I look over at her and notice how easily she could have been mistaken as the bride if she was in the aisle. With her beautiful crimson flowing dress, glowing eyes, and classy posture - she looked compatible with Dad.

But I'm not that reliable, because I always wished they got back together.

"That's what I said," I announce to her nonchalantly. When my cocky father walks to the end of the aisle, he helps his mother to her elegant 'queen' preserved seat and stands near the clergy afterward. The crowd moves to the front more, almost forgetting that the bride was up next. Eventually, the sides of the aisle are somewhat empty until the flower girl comes out, her tiny fingers throwing out rose petals, and a set of glimmering velvet heels are clicking behind her.

As I see the woman my father was marrying, I could not help but feel anything but hate and admiration for her. Her dress is gorgeous, puffy, and sparkling like she was a Disney princess. She wears no veil, but only has her ebony hair curled down to her elbows. Her lips are painted red, of course, and her makeup is done slightly with subtle eyeliner, eyeshadow, and hardly noticeable fake eyelashes. Everything about her shines with beauty and individuality, and I hate it but also find it oddly comforting.

She walks with a man who is slightly raunchier. His suit is a simple black and white with a red bow tie. His hair is slicked to the back, and he seems to be enjoying the attention the most. He waves and smiles like crazy as he walks with my step-mother. As they pass us, my fingers tighten on my elbow in frustration. The drive home was going to be hell, because just by not hearing my mother's jokes about her dress, or her hair, or her dirty nails coming to life like she said they would aggravate me. I knew she was hurting, and I hated it because she was, and I hated it because she has somehow made me despise my step-mother whom I've never even met, but also admire her for the aura she released that felt more motherly than my mother's own.

"She is beautiful." I finally hear my Mom speak, and her voice is softer than it has ever been. "She really is." I want to make a joke, but I know now is not the time. I peek over at my Mom's puffy face, her lip slightly puckered up and eyes glossy. "Let's go to the front." I nod my head slowly and waltz over to the front of the building with my mother by my side. A deep baritone interrupts all talking and flashing pictures.

"We come here today to celebrate the proposal of Grisha Jaeger and Kuchel Ackerman in the beauty of roses." The clergy announces loudly into his microphone. "We come to celebrate a proposal of commitment, of forever love and loyalty. By the arms of God, these two were bound together and torn to find each other once again. They have gone through the trials of life, and have still found each other with nothing but endearment."

"See," Mikasa's distinctive voice whispers in my ear. She stands next to me, hands collided with Jean's, and grins slightly instead of her consistent scowls. "It may look cliche, but it'll feel unreal when it happens to you." Mikasa gazes in front of her and grips Jean's hand tighter. "That is if it ever does with your attitude."

"Go away, loser," I grunt at her. She chuckles and pushes through the crowds to the front. I watch her until she disappears and pushes my hands into my pockets. I can't be angry at her though, because she is right. If I ever have a wedding, it'll probably be in the nursing home as I'm dying from old age. I tighten my fist into my pockets and hang my head. In some way, I was hoping I could fall asleep standing up so I wouldn't have to deal with the romantic screams and 'aww's'.

"Grisha Jaeger, do you accept all of Kuchel Ackerman's baggage? Her ways of life and her love till death do you apart? Do you promise to be there when she needs a hand to hold, and love her when no one else will? Do you wish a life fulfilled to commitment and forever happiness with Kuchel Ackerman?"

"I do."

"And do you, Kuchel Ackerman, accept all of Grisha Jaeger's baggage? His ways of life and his love till death do you apart? Do you promise to be there when he needs a hand to hold and love him when no one else will? Do you wish a life fulfilled to commitment and forever happiness with Grisha Jaeger?"

"I do."

"Then ladies and gentlemen, I bound you too together forever, under the roses of love, and announce you husband and wife.  _You may kiss the bride."_

So much for being a family.

* * *

" _Eren_! Mikasa!"

Oh _great_. I turn my head slightly at the call of my name, and so does my twin sister. I was in the process of grabbing my suit jacket and my mother's purse, who was currently in the bathroom probably wiping mascara stained eyes, and I was evidently ready to leave for the night. Our father walks over to us with his bride hand in hand. Immediately, she smiles at me grimly and nods her head. I ignore her looks and only face my father who had finally gotten away from all his business partners and relatives bothering him.

I lean against the wooden chair next to me and try to calm down from the anger building up in me at the sight. I knew going to the wedding was going to end badly, but I still came for some stupid ass selfless reason. My father grins with his piano-like, ivory teeth and hugs Mikasa slightly. Mikasa's face shows warmth, something I could never understand that she had for our father.

"I hope you enjoyed yourselves." He announces softly. Mikasa ultimately nods and grins at her new step-mother. They had met previously, evidently, and seemed more relaxed near each other than I wanted her too. I couldn't help but feel as if Mikasa betrayed us by choosing to be cordial with the not-so-witch of the land. My father then turns to me and his smile falters a bit. He holds out his hand for a firm handshake. I don't even want to touch his hand, but I do because I'm twenty-eight and I can't act as I did ten years ago. "Where is your mother?"

"Better Than Sex mascara is expensive, so she is probably trying to preserve what is left." Of course, he didn't understand, but his wife did. She took a deep breath and gazed around the room, her deep grey eyes avoiding mine at all cost. I glare at her and stuff my hands into my slack's pockets. "Is there an issue? I'd like to leave early because I do have work in the morning." My father's eyes glimmer with pride, almost making me scoff, and he holds up his hands in excuse.

"Ah, yes. The big shot lawyer. I forget!" He elbows his wife a bit and his grin grows wider. "I won't hold you any longer, but also know that I am having a special dinner tonight as well. It won't go past eleven, but it will be down the street in Dominic's. I have invited your grandfather," He winks slightly because he knows how much I adore him, "- your cousins, business friends, and relatives on her side." He looks at his wife lovingly. "I expect you to at least get to know the other side of the family, so showing up would do some good." I try not to gag at the thought of becoming a family with these random people. My family has always been my Mom, Mikasa, and often Dad.

"Good to know. I'll tell Mom." I say with a fake smile. My father begins to walk away once he notices other people he can invite to the dinner. Mikasa, who I forgot was standing feet away from me the whole time, walks over to me and looks up at me with curiosity.

"Are you going?" She asks. I laugh and grab my jacket, looking at her like she was crazy.

"Of course not. What the fuck do I look like? His son? Please." I grumble sarcastically. "It's obvious I'm his trophy. He just wants me to go and say 'I'm a sexy ass lawyer' and hopes I'll either get invitations to a bigger company or a girlfriend." I shrug my jacket out and bring out my phone. "And where the hell is Mom anyway? I know it's waterproof, but I'm pretty sure they have soap in the damn bathrooms."

"I mean, even if that was his plan - I don't think it would be bad for you to find a girlfriend," Mikasa tells me. I glare at her. She doesn't know me at all. "What?" She grumbles.

"You really think I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who loves me because I'm a lawyer? Mikasa, how the hell are we twins? Aren't you suppose to know this?"

"Yeah, like I know your entire thought process when half of it consists of various episodes of Bad Girls Club."

"Fuck you." I sprout. I notice her husband, Jean, walking over with two drinks in his hand. "- and fuck you too!" He scowls on his way. He points to me with his index finger and turns to Mikasa. I cut him off with the tut of my lips and grab his drink. Drinking it, I point to both of them and scowl. "If it weren't for this lame ass marriage, Mikasa would know that I can't stand that show anymore! I only watch Rupaul, damn it!" When Jean finally opens his mouth, my mother shows up out of the blue with her mascara perfect and cheeks a rosy red. She smiles and grabs her purse in my hands.

"Are you ready to go?" I nod with excitement and slam the wine glass down.

"Yeah, lets -"

"Hey Ms. Jaeger, you know Mr. Jaeger is having a feast tonight?" My head quickly turns at the sound of Jean's voice. He is subtly drinking his wine, a smirk making its way to his lip. Mom turns around as well and looks at me for an explanation. Luckily, I don't get to because Jean's ass steps in again. "It's supposed to be a relative come together. Plus its free food, so." He shrugs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I count to three in my head, trying to remember that this was supposed to be a peaceful place at the moment.

"Oh really? And where is this at?"

"Dominic's."

"Oh, I love Dominic's!" Mom turns toward me and giggles like a fifteen-year-old. "We'll be there! What time?" Jean looks me right in the eye and at that moment, I remember how much I hated him in high school. I should have gotten Mikasa out of that farm years ago.

"In about thirty minutes."

* * *

Dominic's had been my mother's favorite restaurant ever since she was little. My grandma and grandpa had gotten married there, and it was the place Dad proposed to Mom too. It had also been the place Dad would take me on all of my birthdays, making it hard to forget the area and how its shining lights gave my eyes sparkles of green and purple. So as I walked through the fancy restaurant that hadn't changed much with my mother walking in front of me, I couldn't help but be reminded how  _everything_  had changed.

My fingers graze the tables of soft, white cloth as we walk. The restaurant seems to be bought out, so we walk through the area with no eyes gazing upon us. My heart pounds and pounds from memories of my childhood, and suddenly when it seems I can't bare the memories anymore - we finally find our table that is long enough to fit a generation of children.

The table is decorated with red roses and candles, mostly because the lights are dimmed down in the room. My father and his wife have designated seats at the ends of the table, and apparently, the 'Jaeger' family is meant to sit near them, along with his wife's on the other side. I strut slowly toward the seat with my name on an envelope. Mom is set to sit to the farther left of me, right next to Dad, which I can't conclude enough is a bad fucking idea.

I pull my mother's seat out for her and scoot her in once she sits down. My father nods his head at me as a thank you and does the same for his wife. I roll my eyes and sit in my seat, making sure to pat my Mom's back to calm her down.

"Appetizers will come soon!" My father almost shouts as everyone gets settled in their seats. "As for now, drinks are water until menus for dinner are served!" He smiles and turns his head to speak to his wife. I scratch the back of my ear and look across from me in interest. A girl who looks about seventeen sits there, a grin wide on her face and face polka dotted with freckles. Her soft red hair is straight and flows down her back from her skimpy dress, which I have to say fit her really well. If she looked older I definitely would have considered talking to her, but then I remembered that she was basically my fucking step-sister and -

All of this shit was ruining my mood.

"So, Grisha -" Mom begins to speak.  _'Oh god'_ , I think to myself.  _'Please shut up.'_ "I hear you got a new house in the suburbs. How is that going for you?" Mom and Dad grew up poor together, so it is no surprise that that would be the first issue. I mean, how could the city boy Mom told me about decide to become rich - especially when he preached about materialized things ruin happiness? But hell, I have no right to judge, because I did the same thing.

"It's going well, Carla. I would also like to introduce you to Kuchel. I realize you two haven't properly met." He says it hesitantly. He knows that Mom is competitive and that even if they were already divorced, Mom would make sure Kuchel was worthy. I place my chin on my palm in interest to see the conversation take place.

"Hello," Kuchel begins. She smiles brightly and holds out her manicured hand with a glimmering wedding ring. My Mom shakes it, challenging her with her inch longer deep navy nails. I smirk a bit and take a sip of the water near me. "It's nice to meet you."

"Truly," Mom says passionately, but also sarcastically. "I've heard  _so_  many good things about you."

Silence.

 _'Fucking kill me now.'_ I think."So, Kuchel -"I interrupt the tension with a solid turn of my lips. " - could you introduce me to your family members?" _' I'd like to leave as soon as possible, please.'_

"Ah, yes!" Kuchel flutters out. She looks over to the beautiful woman with red hair and grabs her hand."This is Isabel - my adopted daughter from my previous marriage."She grins and rubs her daughter's knuckles in comfort. Isabel nods at us with positive vibes.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you all finally!" She giggles and pushes a lock of her hair behind her ear. I feel Mom's elbow dig into my side, making me look over at her in annoyance. Mom wiggles her eyebrows and winks. My jaw almost drops. _'Oh hell no.'_

"So, Isabel. Are you single? Ready to mingle?" Mom says flirtatiously. Isabel's eyes widen a bit and blushes slightly. I try not to gag at how young she looked, and opted to gaze in the far distance to avoid the embarrassing conversation occurring ."Because I happen to know a guy -"

"Um, I actually have a fiance."

"A fiance?" Me and Mom voice shockingly at the same moment. Isabel looks confused for a second before showing the engagement ring on her hand. I recoil in bewilderment and open my mouth a few times before asking,"How old are you?"

"Twenty?" Isabel nervously says. She fiddles with her hands and laughs at our expressions. Mom takes a sip of her water and looks away, not bothering to respond to Isabel's announcement. I scratch my temple and lift my head up to stare at the chandelier awkwardly. Luckily, Dad breaks the tension by congratulating his step-daughter with a fatherly smile. As they become deep in conversation, Mom looks at me with the raise of her eyebrow.

"I  _wish_  you would get married at twenty. I would beat your ass."

"Ma'," Menus are placed in front of us finally, and as I open it, I open my mothers and urge her by placing her hand on the menu. "Let's not get into a discussion about how young marriage ruins lives. I've had to hear it since I was nine, so I think I'm fine." I whisper to her. I fake a smile when Isabel sets her eyes on me and she grins back happily.

Fifteen minutes later, we are being delivered out appetizers which consist of mozzarella sticks, fried shrimp, garlic mushrooms, bread sticks, and quesadillas. I rub my hands together for the meal and almost drool when it is set in the middle of the table. I reach over, thanking God for my long arms, and place whatever I can onto the small metal plate I had. Mom hardly grabs any, which concerns me as I pull back from grabbing my feast to stare at her. "You okay?" I ask her with concern.

She doesn't answer, but she isn't looking at me. She has a sultry look in her eyes and she leans on her palm while puffing her lips out. My face scrunches up at the look and I follow her gaze. It ends up looking at an older man at the farther end of the table, who wears an ivory suit and blonde hair slicked back delicately. He smiles at my mother, winking indiscreetly as he eats subtle bits of the garlic mushrooms.

"He's eating mushrooms," Mom says desperately. "You know how much I love mushrooms."

"I'm grossed out now." I immediately voice. I curl my lip and lean in my chair with an almost loss of appetite. "If you're gonna eyeball sixty-year-old Hugh Hefners, do not do it in front of me." Mom rolls her eyes and grabs her purse. She doesn't hesitate to push up her boobs, making me look away in annoyance, and pucker her lips.

"Fine." She pushes her chair in as she heads out and ruffles my hair. "Wish me luck." She struts over to the man with her hips moving dramatically. I shake my head and ponder down at the food in front of me. I pick up a mozzarella stick, crunch it between my teeth, and try to savor the flavor. My eyes wonder over to my father, who is engaged in conversation with his new 'family'. My eyes hover, and I feel myself secluding into a bubble of solitary. I sign softly and itch the back of my head.

Toward the middle of the night, orders were taken and I decided I would be better off eating fast food than waiting thirty minutes for dinner to come out. So, I said my goodbyes to my father, and partially Kutchel, and head over to my mother to tell her if she would be fine getting a ride from her new knight. She nods and wishes me a goodnight, not forgetting to place a kiss on my cheek like I was a little boy again. I tell her to be safe and if anything happens to call me.

I leave the restaurant around eleven-fifty. I feel like a weight is lifted off my shoulders as I walk into the parking lot. The cool breeze showers my face, and I finally feel as if I can breathe. The walk toward my car feels like the most relaxing moment of my life since I was eighteen, surprisingly. Once I reach my car, which is a box mini-cooper that my Mom thought I would like, I open the door and slide into the driver's seat. I immediately turn on the car and start flickering through the radio. It seemed like all I could find was rap songs, that I didn't mind if I were in the mood, and annoying pop songs that played weekly. I sigh softly and flip down my mirror to grab a CD disk hidden inside. Looking inside the plastic holder for the disk, I finally pull out a specific disk with my horrible handwriting on it and push it into the radio.

Adjusting the volume and changing it to the second song, I wait until I hear the relaxing words that somewhat help me stay with hope, along with several other songs I adore.

 _"Loving you is easy because you're beautiful_ ," I fix the seating of the car to lean back more and lean my head back on the headrest. Closing my eyes, I decide spending a few moments relaxing would help make sure I don't drive home frustrated. _"Making love with you is all I want to do. Loving you is more than just a dream come true."_ I was so fixated on the woman's voice that I hardly noticed the persistent tapping on my window. I let out deep breaths and mumbles the next words to myself. _"And everything that I do is out of loving you."_

"Hey, Minnie fucking Riperton, can you stop singing solos and look at me?" I jump in my seat at the deep baritone voice. Lifting myself up from my seat, I gaze around in my car, especially the back, and wonder where the fuck that voice was coming from. "I'm over here, dumb-ass!" Finally, I look at the window at the passenger seat and see a pale face staring back at me. His voice was muffled by the closed surroundings, but I could hear the complete anger in his voice. I scowl and roll down my window hesitantly. Before the stranger could speak, I put him in his place - or at least try to.

"Why the _fuck_  are you near my car like a psycho? If you're trying to hijack you're not doing a good job because I'm pretty sure that black suit -" - that I just noticed he was wearing,"- doesn't hide any muscles I couldn't handle."The man outside my car chuckles slightly before shaking his head in irritation. "Excuse me?  _Back the fuck away from my car_."

"Listen," The man starts. I don't listen at all because I burst out of my car in anger. The man then straightens back up and we are soon staring at each other from across the car. I notice he is shorter than normal considering the car hides his chin and bottom lip, and the car is pretty short. I slam the door to the vehicle and walk over to the front and stare at the man who decided he wanted to be my poor long-lost brother and try to run up on my car.

"And they say I have anger issues." The stranger mumbles while looking me up and down. I could hardly hear it over the music still playing in the inside of my car. I place my hands behind my back and scrutinize the man. His black suit matches the night along with his hair, only leaving his face to be barely recognizable. His eyes are small, and his nose is slim. His lips are puckered up slightly, and soon he crossed his arms and glared at me equally. "I was just going to ask your dramatic ass if you could give me a ride, but seeing as you think I'm trying to steal your poor excuse of a car - I'll be better off." He uncrossed his arms and waits for a response.

"Why the hell do you need a ride? There are about three bus routes that I'm sure as hell you could take." I tell the man stubbornly. He shakes his head and begins to walk away. He brushes past me, giving me the scent of his cologne that smelled indescribable. I turn around as he walks toward the building I just came from, and it clicks. "Wait! Are you going to the wedding dinner?" The stranger halts in walking and looks around at me.

"What do you fucking think?" He cockily voices. I try not reply as brassily as he does and only wonder over to my car once again.

"Why did you want to leave if you were going to a dinner?" I know for sure I didn't see him in there. I pretty much memorized everyone's faces in that damn place considering how bored I was. The stranger cocks his hip and places his hand on it. I stand there somewhat confused at his dramatic movement. The stranger sighs and rolls his eyes so harshly that I could see it from here.

"Why would I want to go to a boring ass wedding then go to an even more stupid ass boring ass dinner? I didn't even go to the wedding, so I don't even know why I'm here. So to put it simply, I wanted to be nice - but I really don't have the fucking patience."

He stole the words right out of my mouth, except I had to go the wedding and dinner. I squint my eyes at the man for any threatening qualities, but the only one I saw was his sharp ass nails. I sigh softly and look around the parking lot for a minute before asking, "Where do you live?"

"Just drop me off on Trost. I'll find my way."

Simple. Easy. It wouldn't be that bad to drive him home, would it? Besides, maybe we could rant together about this wack ass wedding that ending up feeling like a fucking funeral. I tap my finger on the hood of my car and nod my head progressively.

"I'm stopping off at Wendy's first. Do you mind?" I open the door to my car and watch as the stranger struts over to the passenger side with cockiness glowing on his face. I settle myself in the driver's seat and place on my seat belt. When the man enters the car, I notice he doesn't buckle up, so I look up and stare at his face that is illuminated by the car lighting. My eyes widened bit by bit at his features.

His eyes were a deep, stormy grey. His eyelashes hovered heavy on his eyes, almost looking like a forest to his enhancing irises. The pucker of his lips was gone, and instead, his lips were perfectly sized and plumped. His cheeks were highly defined and skin looked smooth and unblemished. His eyebrows were perfectly arched and it somehow added even more perfection to his facial features. When his face turned toward to mine, he raised an eyebrow and all I could see on his face was beauty and, most definitely,  _attitude_.

"Are you gonna drive or what?" He says in a sassy tone. I snap out of my trance and nod quickly. I place a scowl on my face and turn down the song that was playing too loudly. I cough and rub my throat.

"Can you put your seat belt on too?" After a few seconds, I hear the zipping of the belt and click. I smile a bit. "Thanks." He doesn't respond. He does, however, boldly start fiddling with the radio and changes it back to the second song. He sits back in his seat and breathes in. He soon begins to dig the dirt out of his nails and speaks confidently.

"Oh, and I don't mind Wendy's. I prefer Jack In A Box, but whatever floats your boat." As I shift the gear into drive, I take his statement with a grain of salt because Wendy's is much better than stupid Jack In A Box.

But I digress, because he was good looking - and there aren't many of us left anymore.


	2. I'm A Lawyer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comic relief is great.

"Hello, welcome to  _Jack In A Box_  what can I get for you?"

"Can I get two large curly fries, two plain number one cheeseburgers, and uh...a -"

"Medium chocolate shake."A subtle comment comes from next to me.

"A chocolate shake! That'll be all."

"Okay, that'll be eight-twenty-eight. Pull forward for your meal."

I awkwardly press the button for my window to roll up and place my car in drive. Scooting forward slowly to the short line in front of me, I rest my foot on the brake and adjust my seat belt that was digging into my neck. "So," I string out, " - what is your name?" The stranger next to me peers at me from tapping on his phone. He pushes a silky piece of his jet black hair out of his face and lets out a tiny sigh.

"Depends. Why are you curious?" My face scrunches up immediately. I look at him crazily and point at the building we were currently stopping at.

"I'm buying you fast food, and the type I don't even like." I cross my arms and glare at him. "I'm pretty fucking sure we could be best friends by now. I don't buy food for anyone." The stranger leans back into his seat and starts to bite his lip distractedly.

"It's literally eight dollars."

"You -" I take a deep breath and gaze out the window, making sure to calm myself before responding. I really didn't feel like yelling in a parking lot, especially a fast food one. That's really the place where you look like a complete psycho and I have an image to uphold. "Where are you from? Didn't your mother teach you  _respect_?"

"Definitely not from New York suburbs as you can see." He eyes me again and tuts his lip. I then feel more attacked than before, because I surely didn't grow up in the rich parts of fucking  _New York_.

"I'm actually from Jersey, thank you. Unlike it here, they have decent human beings."

"Yeah, and I'm not from Texas. Even so, isn't that like two hours away from here? You don't even have an accent."

"That is so stereotypical for you!" I raise my finger and point it in his face in frustration. "And you kinda get rid of it when people think you're a god damn city thug!"

"Are you?" He faces me completely, eyes glossy and like an April storm. "A thug, I mean. Did I pick the wrong person to hitchhike?"

"I'm a lawyer!"

"Oh, so eight dollars shouldn't be much for you. I forget then why this is such an issue. I'm slightly bored."

"Who are you?" I survey the first person who has ever been so direct with me since I was in high school. I find myself somewhat amused, looking at him oddly with my eyes squinted in confusion. He looks back with no issue shown in his eyes. The only thing I see in his eyes is a hunger for his Jack In The Box that I got for him because I am a nice and secretly wealthy person. "Is there a city full of people like you?"

"I wish." - is his only comeback. He then signals the front of him to tell me the line was moving. I turn my head back to the road, lifting my foot from the pedal, and slide forward to the window. Rolling back down my own, I dig twenty-dollars out of my pocket and held it between my fingers, waiting for the paper bags of greasy food to come the way that I was suddenly excited about. I could at least admit that their curly fries were pretty good.

"Eight twenty-eight?" The guy in the window voices in boredom. I hand him twenty dollars and wait for my change patiently. As I am given my change, the rustle of bags and a cold shake come my way and into my hand in the middle of the window. I thank him and keep the food in my lap as I drive out of the drive-through. Immediately, I pull over to the right and set the car in park. The stranger next to me looks around him and then at me.

"What are you doing?" I ignore him and start to separate our bags individually. I hand him his bag and gaze innocently. "You can't eat and drive or something?"

"The main street leads to Trost eventually, so I think a couple of blocks for you to walk wouldn't be so bad since I am a city thug." I smile smugly. He tilts his head and scratches it.

"I thought you were a lawyer."

"Just - get out!" I begin to yell. "I'm kicking you out because you're being an asshole, and I deal with enough of that from my mom. So if you could kindly get out and make your own way." I point to the sidewalk that leads to plenty of stores and cafes. Bright lights hung from each building and floated over the street from light poles. I had heard of this street ever since of coming to New York from my sister but never bothered to pay it a visit. Mikasa visited on New Years, and that's basically how she got her tattoo on her back and a broken ankle from drinking too much. It was essentially the perfect place to shop, get drunk, and meet crazy ass people. It was definitely a place I didn't see myself going to at all considering I didn't favor any of those activities.

The raven-haired man sighs annoyingly and points to a certain flashy building at the end of the street. "I want you to know that the reason I asked for a ride home is that I am really high and I'm pretty sure no one would appreciate seeing me mess up a wedding dinner." I open my mouth to respond to how he called  _me_  a thug, but he himself was a druggie. He cuts me off by lingering onto his next choice of words. "That club down there is a nightclub. It is full of weird people, drinks, and nice music. I love that club. If I had money coming out of my ass -" He glares at me, "- I'd probably be there every day."

"What point are you trying to make?" I growl out. He rolls his eyes and grabs the handle to the car to open it. He flings it open and before he exits, he looks back at me with a weary grin.

"Thank you." He slams the door closed and almost sprints over to the nightclub that was booming with newcomers. I open my mouth, close it, open it, and the open the car door.

"Wait!" I shout. He doesn't wait at all. In fact, he walks faster to the club - which fuels my anger even more. Now I know that I am a decent guy, but if anyone knows me - they know that I like to have the last word. I like to win, and if I had put this crazy stranger in a place he liked instead of disliked, I evidently made a mistake because no one makes a fool out of me. I am a lawyer, for god's sake. I don't put up with bullshit changing opinions. "You little asshole!"

I try to ignore the looks I get from people as I sprint down the sidewalk. I'm wearing a business suit, but the man walking in front of me was too. I mean, yeah I wore a more decorated patterned tie, a golden watch, shining shoes, and a diamond tie pin - and he wore dirty white sneakers, black jeans, and a cheap white button-up?

I never even noticed. I see him from afar take off his jacket and throw it into a trash can. As he does, it gives me a chance to catch up to him. I slow down in my speed and watch as he stuffs the jacket into the trash. "What are you doing?" His head snaps up and immediately he glares at me. "That's a decent jacket!"

"Why are you following me? Go away."

"Well, first of all, you didn't take your food. I paid money for that, so I'd appreciate if you'd eat it at least." I continue hesitantly. "And you don't need to go to a club at almost one in the morning. That's how bad things happened to people if you haven't watched the fucking news."

"You care because?" He gapes at me uninterested. "You dropped me off here."

"I dropped you off so you could go home, not go party!"

"What is the difference? I'm pretty sure more people get robbed and raped by walking home than at a nightclub."

"I beg to differ. Statistics say -"

"Okay, listen." The raven-haired stranger holds up his hand and rolls his eyes. "Since you're so concerned, how about you drive me home then? Or would you rather go into the nightclub with me, with your uptight slacks in your ass and Rolex watch?"

"It's not a Rolex -"

"Jesus fuck!" He slams his hand on the trash can and glares at me in the eyes. I'm somewhat shocked by his reaction. I cross my arms and watch as his face transforms into a newfound anger. "People like you drive me crazy! Get a fucking life!" With no other words, he stomps off into the club without even being ID'd by the bouncer. I scrunch up my eyebrows and dig my fingers into the skin near my elbows. Me? No life? What? I'm a _lawyer_.

"Who the hell does he..." My words linger due to the anger bubbling inside of me. I look around me to see if anyone noticed the scene. The bouncer averts his eyes when I see him, humming and trying not to seem like the snooper he was. I strut up next to him and dig into my back pocket. Pulling out my leather wallet that I have a chain connected to, I pull out my ID and shove it into the bouncer's chest. He grabs it and only takes a glimpse before letting me into the club. I make sure to give him a deep glare, my eyes probably hurting from squinting so much at him.

 _The Output_. Infamously known for being crazy people's daydream. Why am I here? I shake my head from my thoughts and stroll into the club. When I first enter, I am immediately hit with the scent of strong alcohol, cigarettes, and weed. The decor around is a deep dark blue with onyx furniture scattered around. Most couches held teenagers giggling and chatting, martinis in one hand and a blunt in the other. Was this shit even legal? My face scrunches up and I place my hands on my hips as I gaze around the club more.

I can't spot the raven-haired guy anywhere. I begin to walk farther into the club, ignoring slight catcalls and touches onto my suit. I smile and nod, thanking people who complimented and denying all women who wanted to dance or even buy me a drink. I was here for one reason only, and that was -

Why am I even here? That guy was an asshole. He obviously only cared about himself, and he made me buy fucking Jack In A Box without even eating the shit. I cross my arms and scowl. Eventually, after five minutes of contemplating my sanity, I turn around and begin to find the exit to the club. I didn't need this shit right now. Nope. Not at all. I have work tomorrow, and I would like nothing better than lay on my bed and fall to sleep. However, the minute I lift my foot to turn around, I feel a tug on my shoulder pulling me back roughly.

"Hey!" I hear a familiar voice shout. I turn around in irritation of whoever grabbed me, and am gifted with the view of the man who decided to ruin my night. He scowls at me with his nose scrunching up and points to the bar in aggravation. "They won't serve me fucking drinks. Go buy me some." I look at him like he was crazy, because he most definitely was.

"What? No, what the fuck? Why?" Why? Why are you even asking?

"They said I was a 'hazard to the club' or something. They even had my picture in the back. What the fuck ever. Those assholes just don't know how to have a good time." The stranger places a hand on his hip in sass and glares at me. "So, are you buying me Tequila or not? I'm pretty sure your money goes literally no where else."

"You know what, no!" I almost scream."I came in here to tell you to go _home_. It's not safe here, especially in this shady ass club!"

"Why do you even care?"

"Because I'm a nice guy! Okay?" I groan in frustration when he scoffs."People have morals!"

"Listen, I'll make a deal with you." His eyes glimmer in mischievousness. He almost smirks, which left me surprised for few seconds, and raises his hand to emphasize his devious plan. I notice his stance falter a bit and his eyes blinking at random moments. Was he drunk already? "How about you buy me a bottle of Tequila and drive me home? That way I'll be safe, wake up with Jack In A Box, and be happy." I was about to decline and say 'go fuck yourself' before he pulled an object out of his back pocket."I'll pay with a piece of gum."

He is definitely drunk. That isn't even a piece of gum, it is a long piece of lint.

"Get the fuck outta here. I'll buy it." I watch as he comes close to fucking  _giggling_  and walk over to the bar. "And he said I drove him crazy." I murmur along the way. When I reach the bar, a woman with long, ocean wavy blonde hair smiles at me from behind the bar. I smile back and dig into my hand for my wallet, but she stops me with a movement of her hand and leans across the counter. She makes it known to present her breast evidently. I only raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Anything for you is on me, baby."She winks and grabs a glass near her. Cleaning it, she licks her lips and wonders her eyes over me suggestively. I grin, making sure to show my pearly whites, and point to the bottles of alcohol behind her.

"I'll take your most expensive _Tequila_. Sure you can pay for that?"She giggles slightly and places the transparent glass down. She reaches up, not without pushing her flattering buttocks towards me, and grabs the most expensive bottle of Tequila the whole club probably owned. She places it in front of me and grabs a napkin from the compartment below the counter. She grabs a pen from out of her bra and writes cursively her name and number. I gaze at her as she writes, enjoying the cleavage I could see and her flattering face. She hands it all over to me and blows me a kiss when I wink.

I strut away from the bar, feeling pounds of stress lifting from a positive interaction. I cradle the Tequila into my chest and look at the number and name, saying it to myself before a presence snatches it away from me. My face scrunches up as I glance up and see the raven-haired stranger glaring at the napkin like it was his worst enemy. "What the fuck is this?" He growls. I try to take it back, but he moves away quickly and gapes at me. I roll my eyes and groan out an answer.

"A number from the bartender. Can you give it back now?" He scoffs and raises his eyebrow at the napkin. A few seconds past before he grips the napkin from the bottom and tears it effortlessly. He doesn't even care to look at my reaction. He only drops the napkin and kicks it away from him. My jaw drops slightly and I glower at the man who ruined my night once again. I hold my hands out, palms up, and almost want to beat the shit out of anybody to get my anger out. "What the  _fuck_. Why did you -"

"She's a slut. Probably has a business card for people like you wanting free STDs." He pushes a piece of his short black hair behind his ear and turns around. He grabs my wrist and pulls me along with him. "Now take me  _home_." He says in a suggestive tone. I raise my eyebrows and almost want to pull away from him, signaling that I wasn't interested in the  _least_. He catches my hesitance, but instead of getting frustrated, he laughs softly. "Sorry, I only get turned on by expensive alcohol, not the rich pricks who buy them." I want to respond, but of course I can't. It seemed like a theme when I was around him.

When we make it out of the club, I see the bouncer wink at the guy dragging me around and watch him laugh. I recoil my face in confusion and try not to yell what was hell _that_  suppose to mean. As we stroll up to my pathetic excuse for a car, I unlock the door and cross the street to enter the car. The stranger opens the door and slams it closed. Immediately, he uses his teeth to try to open the tightly capped alcohol and ignores me when I shout at him to stop. "Stop! That's bad for your teeth!"

"What isn't?" He mutters when he takes his mouth off. He begins to twist the metal cap and when he hears a sizzling sound and a pop, he moans and throws the loose cap on the floor. " _Finally_." He takes a sip like it was the last drink he was going to have on earth. I start the engine to my car and turn up the radio slightly so I didn't have to hear his orgasmic sounds. I'm pretty sure a simple drink shouldn't make a person sound like that. My eyes wonder over at him a few times in concern and also an annoyance.

"Trost Avenue, right?" He doesn't answer. He only wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans his head back against the passenger seat chair. I assume correct and pull out into the street when ready. He lets out a tiny burp and takes another swig of the alcohol, and I don't miss his face that recoiled in some type of disgust at the strong taste. His lips pop off the rim and his teeth comb out to graze his cracked lips. He soon wiggles around and rolls down the window.

"I air." - is all he says. His head is practically outside of the window with his hair flowing backwards. His eyes are half-lidded, glossy and blinking more often that normal. His lips are overly moisturized with left over Tequila and saliva. I wouldn't doubt if I turned the car light on, his cheeks would be as red as a tomato and I bet even more that he couldn't even walk anymore. I try not to sigh and get aggravated that I decided to hold responsibility over an alcoholic.

By the time we make it to Trost Avenue, he is completely asleep and snoring louder than my Mom ever has. I pull over to an apartment complex and wiggle his shoulders harshly. He groans in response and lifts his head slightly. "Hey." I say in irritation. I shake him more before he jerks up. Drool flowed down his cheeks and into his sideburns. He sits up and looks at me, eyes red as shit and lips puffy. I roll my eyes and point to the complex that dominated the neighborhood. "Is this the place?" It takes a moment for his eyes to focus and to look where I'm pointing.

"Mhm." He responses. He nods his head and tries to open the door. After failing two times, he finally gets it and the minute his feet hits the ground - he falls onto the grass. My eyes widen like white ass dinner plates and I lean over to see him attempting to get back up.

"Jesus Christ." I mutter out. I open up my door, slam it closed, and walk around my car to help him up. He begins to mutter to himself on the ground. When he tries to get up, he spreads his legs and levels upward. A drunken smile appears on his face when he balances himself, but the minute he tries to walk, he stumbles again. I grab his arm and wrap my other hand around his waist. Pulling him up, I ignore how light he was and slam the door closed with the back of my foot. He is still muttering to himself at this point and eventually directs it to me.

"You smell like a man." I shake my head and scoff.

"Oh really? I never knew." He only chuckles to himself and brings his head up. His hair tickles my chin, but I disregard it and only help him walk over to the apartment complex that I hoped had fucking elevators.

"No, you don't get it." He slurs out. I try not to pay attention to his words anymore because without a doubt they came with no context anyways. "You never get it. You never understand!" He lingers on the last 'd' and giggles.

"Shut up! People are sleeping!" I almost yell at him. He ignores me and pushes me away, making him fall to the ground once more. He groans when his ass hits the ground and rubs the back of his head. I shake my head and stare down at him pathetically. "You're a really sad person." He pouts a bit at my words and crosses his arms.

"Whatever."He sits down on his hands and knees and begins to crawl toward a secluded area that I assumed held the elevator. "I'll get there my own way, John."He laughs at his own joke, which I didn't even get. "John Doe!" He crawls much slower as he speaks. He pauses when he sees a flower in the bushes. Gasping, he gazes at it like it was a star. "I never seen that in Texas." That's enough. I reach down and jerk him up with as much strength as I could. I lean down and wrap his legs around my waist and lift up. His hands quickly tie around my neck and I'm face to face with his crimson cheeks and an oddly adorable smile. "I never seen  _you_  in Texas either." He snuggles against my neck and hums.

"What floor is your apartment?" I ask as calmly as possible. He mutters the number into my neck, giving me subtle goosebumps, and rubs his leg against my lower back. I breath in, and out, and walk over to the elevator. Once I'm inside and situated, I decided to ask a question I probably should have when I first met the bastard. "What is your name?"

"John." He says it with the utmost serious that I forget to even be angry. I roll my eyes and step out of the elevator when it rings. Luckily, his room is only two doors down. I open the door to his apartment, not even caring that it wasn't my place, and head over to the nearest furniture. It ends up being a torn up brown couch littered with blankets and pillows. I place him down softly onto the cushions and tug away from him. He groans in displeasure and scrutinizes me. I lift myself up, straighten my suit, and look around the apartment that I didn't expect to look so empty.

He has a small old fashioned television that has an antenna above it. It's placed on top of a cardboard box with different colored remotes scattered on the floor. His couch looks like a cat attacked it with torn marks spitting out foam and scratches littering. The only thing he has plenty of is pillows and blankets. About ten pillows with no sheets are scattered onto the couch, almost considered love seat, along with two ripped blankets. It looks like a nest, and seeing as to how he grabbed the blankets and immediately tucked in, it is.

His kitchen looks like he just moved in a few days ago. No utensils, no towels, and no decorations. He has no tables or dishes. It looks boring and frankly - sad. My eyes wonder down to the stranger to see he has fallen fast asleep with a blanket covering the bottom half of his face. His hair sprawled out onto the pillow and it looks like he is used to sleeping here. The lighting is so horrible that it has a demeaning yellow tone that would make anyone look awful. He snoozes on a couch, not a bed, but a couch with two broken legs and smells a little bit like stinky socks. I start to walk away from him slowly and decide to get him a cup of water and possibly - aspirins.

Once I open the first cabinet, all I am met with is bottles of alcohol and canned food. Vodka and vegetable soup. Wine coolers and beans. Rum and sliced peaches. Hennessy and noddles. I want to roll my eyes and complain about how pathetic that is, but it seems much more serious than that. I close the cabinet slowly and look for cups. When I can't find any, I look around the house as an excuse for searching for one.

Of course, the bathroom is plain. All that is in there was one roll of toilet paper. I see no toothbrush or paste, which I find slightly disgusting. I walk past the bathroom and finally head for the only bedroom. The door is closed tightly. I search around me just to be sure I wasn't going to be caught snooping and place my hands on the doorknob. I prepare myself for what is to come. He would probably have clothes scattered everywhere, considering his house is so messy now, with an undone bed. This is in likelihood where his dishes were - stacked up and gaining mold. I chuckle to myself and twist the knob. I prepare for the worst.

I am most flabbergasted when I had seen the completely empty room. My eyebrows scrunch up and I couldn't help but think that my worst is his best in this occasion. The room is unbelievably hot which made me believe it hadn't been open in weeks. The whole room is ghost with furniture or anything for that matter. The only thing I see is a half full wine glass on the windowsill that looks to be filled with anything but wine. I strut over to it and grab it. I smell it and recoil at the scent. It has  _definitely_  been sitting there for awhile.

"At least I found a glass." I mutter. I walk quickly out of the room without looking back or closing the door. Redeeming myself to the living room and then to the kitchen, I clean out the glass and fill it up with water. I couldn't find any aspirins, so I only place the glass of water onto the beige carpeted floor near the couch and hope for the best.

Reluctantly, before I decide to leave, I pull out my wallet and almost smack myself from being so nice. I slide a hundred dollar bill under the glass of water, and hope that in the morning he makes a conscious decision to buy some damn dishes around here.

* * *

_A whistle full of dust. No air and no hardships. The simplicity of blowing didn't come easy to him, because for one - he hadn't grown up in a bird's nest with his dotting mother and masculine father. He bore property onto land with nothing else but his hands and nature's alliances. He was a land vulture, sticking to the sides of his area and watching for a change._

_She owned flutes and bubbles by the age of five. She was inevitably the opposite with massaged feet and spoon fed lips. There were plenty of people like her in the town. Rich, stress-free, and soaring. However, as he walked into the typical city doors that he had not witnessed in so long, she seemed more like a buried treasure he had found while searching for unknown. He swallowed the lump in his throat, straightened his homemade bronze jacket from his bed-ridden grandmother, and slowly walked toward her. Surely, he had to have smelled like sewer water because he hadn't had a chance to shower in weeks. Fortunately, that didn't stop him._

_His first words didn't register. He repeated them and waited patiently for her to look up at him once again. Her gorgeous red hair reminded him of falling rose leaves, and her lips somehow brought the topic of wet, flavored rubber into his mind. He licked his lips, brushed back his atrocious hair, and went to ask again._

_"Eren! Are you_  ignoring me!? Get down here! Now!"

Snapping out of my reverie that had mustered out of no where in the morning, I sigh and save my work silently. I could hear my mom screeching and complaining about how I am 'ignoring' her, not realizing that it is six in the morning. I close my onyx laptop and place it onto the nightstand next to me. My fingers are tingling from pressing down on labeled keys for so long, and my legs are screaming at me to exercise or walk in general. I rub my grainy hands over my face, trying not to grimace at the feeling on wrinkles forming on my forehead, and get up off the bed. I don't forget to look at myself in my overly large and egotistic mirror that I have hanging on my wall.

I appreciate fine pajama clothing on a fine person every once in awhile. I straighten out my silky, deep forest green pajama top and pants and ruffle my long locks of cocoa-colored hair. Flakes fall out in front of myself, reminding me that I needed to take a bath or my dandruff would get bad from all the gel I put in my head. I slip on my house shoes and stroll over to my master bathroom. It is pretty big for one person, but I always found that one-night stands _loved_  it so much that I might have to keep it if I ever want to get laid. God knows that the lawyer ordeal is getting kind of old.

I run the water in the sink and begin to brush my teeth. Afterwards, I take a quick shower to wake myself up and wrap a soft white towel around my waist. Heading into my bedroom, I saunter over to my walk in closet, not caring that my towel is falling off my hips, and gaze at the collection of suits. Rubbing my chin with bits of stubble showing, I pick out a light grey tuxedo, a pair of pristine white socks, and a tie. I immediately take off the towel and get ready for a day of dreaded  _work_.

I make sure to slick my hair back out of my face with gel and a wide-toothed brush. I ruffle it a bit so it wouldn't bring out how big my head is. Taking one last look in my large mirror across the room, I head into the hallway and downstairs into the kitchen. It smells of bacon and syrup - my favorite combination. I skip down the carpeted steps, take a look around my amber interior house to see if it was a mess (thank god it wasn't) and saunter into the kitchen.

Mom sits at the breakfast table, as I like to call it since we don't eat dinner together, munching on a bacon and pancake sandwich. I wiggle my eyebrows and gaze around the kitchen for my plate. "Where is mine?" My Mom looks at me slyly, puts down her food with her nails clinking the silverware, and crosses her arms at me.

"You?  _You_. Eren." She has that tone in her voice. I try not to let anger bubble inside of me so early in the morning. I let out a deep sigh and shrug my shoulders, signaling I didn't know what her issue was. "You let me go home with a stranger last night, Eren. Are you fucking serious?  _Breakfast_?" My eyes widen and my jaw drops a bit. I let my face cave in and I tilt my head to look at the ceiling in disbelief. "I was drunk, Eren! Nothing happened, but still!"

"How was I suppose to know you were drunk?" I argue. "You had like one glass of wine! From what I remember, your tolerance of that is pretty good!" I start to walk over to the open closet in the kitchen that held my briefcase and jacket, already knowing that her attitude would want to make me leave as soon as possible. "I know you like to find reasons to bitch at me, but I really think you should find a new blame because I'm not your god damn Mom,  _Mom_." I jerk my coat off the racket and place it onto my shoulders. "Besides, I drove drunk last night too, but whoop-dee-doo - it's always about you."

"Do not start with me, Eren."

"Start? I literally came down stairs with stars blazing out of my ass, then you come and make accusations that I let a stranger take you home drunk! Newsflash, you do that every week with or without me!"

"Whatever Eren! Just get the fuck out, you're useless!" I ignore the painful jab into my chest at her words and shake my head. Mom raises up from her seat and points her finger at me."You're a piece of shit. Just like Grisha and everyone else."

"Great. Thanks." I head out as quickly as possible. I slam the door closed and tuck my briefcase under my arm. Scowling to myself, I press the button on my car keys to raise the garage door for  _my_  car instead of Mom's. A silk, glimmering ivory Tesla comes into view and puts me immediately into a better mood. I get in the car quickly and drive to work.

Mom _likes_  to blame things. She gets thrill out of blaming others for her bad decisions. She blames me for Dad leaving, she blames me for making Mikasa want to leave, and even blames me for being born - if it can get as psychotic as that. Never mind the fact that Mikasa was born with me three minutes later because that's her little girl. I clutch the wheel of the car and let out a sigh that hopefully blew out my irritation.

 _'I've had to live with this since I was eighteen. One day isn't so bad. There has been worse.'_  I calmly repeat in my head. I take a left turn and release my hands gently from the wheel as I do."Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T." I murmur to myself. I continue with saying the alphabet backwards in hopes that it would take my mind off of everything that had just transpired.

By the time I am at work, my boss is already running around like a chicken with its head cut off at how late I was. I only nod at his discipline and head to my office to sort out some cases and make phone calls. About two hours before work ended, one of the associates came knocking on my door with her heavy hands. My regular assistant wasn't here today. She was probably idling off, like she usually does.

"Mr. Jaeger, you have a phone call from your recent client that he would like to speak to you about privately. He left his number. Also, your sister left a voicemail about golf with your father after work."

"Golf?" My head pops up from the paperwork on the desk. I scrunch my eyebrows and recoil in confusion. "Golf. Did she say anything in context?" My assistant hesitantly nods and looks down at her notebook.

"Yes, she said that your father wanted to speak to you about something, but you had blocked his number on several devices." My mouth opens up and I let out a soft 'oh'. Right. I did block him.

"Where to?"

"Triton Golf Course."

"Alright. Thank you." She shakes her head in response and wonders out of my office. I let out a deep sigh and shuffle the paperwork on my desk into a pile. I hadn't been golfing with my father in such a long time that it's hard to remember how to play it anymore. I dig into my back pocket of my slacks and pull out my phone. I check the time and as I do, I notice two missed calls from Mikasa and Mom. I have twenty messages from Mom as well, making me nervous to unlock my phone and possibly see more insults.

**Momma 10:38 AM**

_your dad called me talking bout some golf he knows i hate that shit_

**_10:45 AM_ **

_and i did make you pancakes they were in the fridge_

**_10:50 AM_ **

_what the he said he wants us too meet the family he could have just made a family group chat or some shit_

**_10:51 AM_ **

_normal ppl just do barbecues you know_

**_11:20 AM_ **

_i ate your pancakes. i'm getting fat. ill make you more when you get home._

**_11:37 AM_ **

_r you going golfing? i don't wanna be there without you :'(_

**_11:50 AM_ **

_ok call me when you done with work love you sweaty_

I rub my chin at the cluster of messages that without a doubt weren't finished even after she declared her exit. Throwing away the hidden refusal to not respond, I type out a message and hit send.

**Eren _2:53 PM_**

_*sweety. And yes, I'll be there. Love you too._

Instantly, I'm feeling a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was it good? maybe? eh, I'll try better next time.


	3. An Alcoholic's Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Eren finds out Levi is actually an asshole, and decides to kick him out his car near New York's Main Street when taking him home from the wedding dinner. Levi decides taking a trip to the nearest club isn't a bad idea, and Eren hates everything fun, so he attempts to stop Levi. However, all ends in Levi getting drunk and Eren having to drive him home. By the way, Carla isn't the best mom in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have been gone for like four months, but I got accepted into ten colleges, so who is really the loser here? Still me. Anyways, I have an interview with Brown University this Wednesday, so if I get accepted fuck every bad thing I said about Ivy League schools in this story I'm in that shit. (jk y'all) (I'll stop, enjoy)

"No, I'm just getting off work."

"Well, can you hurry? Dad is starting to tell stories about his childhood to Kutchel and it's getting awkward."

"Isn't Jean there? Go eat his ass in the bathroom or something. Isn't he into that?"

"You're fucking disgusting. How am I even related to you?"

"You're not. Mom has mutilated genes. Who all is there?" As I look into my car mirrors consistently with my gleaming sunglasses, I take in the beautiful scenery of New York - tall buildings with annoying people and all. My hands are hardly on the steering wheel of my car, only sitting low in the wide hole at the bottom, and all my car windows are down to the bottom. My hair sways back and forth from the wind, and I can't help but feel rich and powerful - the complete opposite of how I feel at home. These were my times of inner peace, where I could indulge in my own arrogance and ride down the highway doing way over the speed limit. Unfortunately, I would wish it would go on forever, but I was heading for a golf course - which would have been on the bottom of my favorite things to do.

"Mom is here, Jean is here, Dad is here, Kuchel's children are here - and I swear to god her son is literally crazy -"

"Okay, okay. I'm almost there. I'll see you later." Mikasa tries to put in her last few words, but I hang up by pressing the Bluetooth button to my earpiece and give out an evil giggle when I realized she was going to be pissed that I hung up on her again. I then turn on the radio and listen to some calming classical music. It often helps relax my mind before heading into a stressful situation, something you have to learn how to do  _as a lawyer._

When I reach Triton Golf Course, the whole parking lot is empty. I mentally have grown and realized that my father, as cocky as he is, probably rented out the entire golf course for our _'family reunion'_. I don't even consider it that because I've only had one conversation with Kuchel's daughter, and her son is practically an ex-factor in my eyes. Jean is a complete asshole and we will probably get into about eleven fights in the first twenty minutes, Mikasa doesn't give a shit about any of us and will more than likely win each course to leave early, and me and my mom are probably going to head out to IHOP afterwards to talk shit about how awful it was. In other words, we were the perfect family already. Nuclear family or not - we had it in the bag.

So, I park my gorgeous car and reluctantly jump out. I walk as slowly as possible to the glass doors of the golf course, and soon enough I see my mother immediately. She stands inside, hands on her hip as she holds her purse, and obvious annoyance shown on her face. When she sees me walking through the glass doors, she sighs in relief and places her foot on the mat to automatically open the door. I enter slowly and tuck my hands into my slack's pockets. "So... where is everyone?"

"Playing golf. They wouldn't wait for you so they already started, but I did." She smiles like an innocent child, but I ignore it and run my hand through my hair.

"Let's get this day over with."

My father loves golf. When he is stressed, he plays golf. When he is happy, he plays golf. When he is horny, he plays golf. It's utterly annoying, and I try to avoid all measures in which he tries to get me to join him. Though in my childhood, golfing with my father had been the most fun in my life, but it has become nothing but a bitter memory of how much I despised him. So yes, him attempting to collide our family with golf left me with nothing but annoyance and eagerness to leave.

"Eren, son!"  _'Oh great,_ ' I think when I see my father smiling at me from the golf grounds. He is wearing bright white cargo shorts, a green polo shirt, and his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. I grimace at how typical he looked and cringe even more at the sight of Kuchel in a tacky floral sundress. My mother made the right decision to wear a soft yellow sundress, unlike her. But I'm also very judgmental when it comes to my mother, so I guess I can't be trusted. "I'm so happy to see you! It has been so long since we've been golfing together."

"Yeah, so long." I put on a fake smile and nod my head politely at Kuchel. She smiles back, white teeth pushing through her overly plump lips. I avert my eyes from them both and take a look at Mikasa and Jean. Mikasa held her golf club over her shoulder and Jean leaned on him like a cane. If we took a family picture, we would look completely ridiculous. I roll my eyes and look around once more and see Isabel, the girl I met at the dinner party, speaking intimately to a blonde-haired guy next to her. I assume that is Kuchel's son, and he doesn't seem as interesting as Mikasa made him out to be.

"Hello again, Eren." Kuchel voices softly. Her soft eyes go to her daughter and she extends her hand. "Isabel." Isabel snaps out of her trance and faces me, smiling just like her mother. The blonde-haired guy looks at me again and shows the same happiness. I guess that unfortunately ran in the family. I creep out a fake grin and nod my head at her.

"Nice to see you again, Eren! This is my fiancé that I was talking about! Farlan -"She grabs his bicep and looks up at her ' _fiancé'_  with her forest green eyes." - this is my step-brother, I guess." Farlan, who is not the son I presume, holds out his hand and waits for a shake. I take his hand harshly, making sure to assert my dominance and slide it back to place in my pocket quickly. My father seems pleased with how positive I'm acting, and I can't wait until I ruin it with my big mouth.

"Alright, family time is over, it's time to beat each other's asses in this white people game." - if my mother didn't ruin it first. I sigh softly and gaze over at my mother who already held a golf club in her hand and sunglasses on her face. She looks gorgeous in the sunlight, and I wish my father would look over so he could see that. But instead, he reaches over to Kuchel, grabs her hand, and leads her over to the first golf hole. As he does, we follow with assumption. Mikasa stays behind to talk to me.

"Did you see her dress?"

"I know. Tacky as fuck."

"No -"Mikasa looks at me oddly and probably deems me as childish." - the tag on the back. She forgot to take it off. He is sugar daddy-ing her. It cost two hundred dollars."

"My shoes cost half as much, Mikasa. He has money and he wants to use it. If he wants to use it on a tacky dress, he can do that." Mikasa stays quiet for a few moments. Her breathing layers slowly and she pushes a black lock out of her face.

"He never did that for Mom." I decide not to respond for a few minutes. I walk up the slight hill and watch as my father stops at the first hole. He gives Kuchel his club and waits for the rest of us to crowd around. I shake my head and scoff.

"He hasn't done a lot of things."

" _Hut_!" My head jerks to the invading sound immediately. I look over to my right and see a dark figure about a thousand feet from us hitting a golf ball obnoxiously hard. Grass flutters up with it, and the golf club almost comes loose in his hands. He stumbles a bit afterward and places his hand over his forehead to see the ball, which from my sight landed in a pond, and claps his hands together. I scrunch up at the odd figure and look at Mikasa for a response.

"Wasn't this place rented out?" Mikasa raises her eyebrows and looks at me with a ' _you know who he is'_  look, but I didn't. I have no clue who this person is. At all. I watch as she walks away back to Jean. I keep my eyes on the odd figure and for some reason, my feet lead to him. There is only one person he could be, and that would be my  _step-brother_. But I refuse to believe that this figure, who yelled 'hut' in golf and unconsciously looks like a crack-head from afar, was my step-brother. There was no way. Kuchel seemed like a much classier woman than that.

My feet rip through the grass, and when I reach him, I am met with him wearing a navy hoodie with the hood on his head and black basketball shorts on. I was about to tap his shoulder, but he doesn't seem to notice me because he raises his golf club and yells - _"Hut!"_  - once again. I jerk away from his stance once again that held aggressiveness, and watch as the ball curves right and falls into a bush. I squint my eyes at him and wonder if he even knew what he was doing. He seems to have not noticed my presence, because he turns around, picks up a Coca-Cola bottle, and takes a large gulp. "Nice." - I can hear him whisper.

"Excuse me?" I voice with confidence. I don't know who he is personally, but I know for sure he isn't going to play golf like a crazy maniac for long in my presence. That shit creeps me out, which is the number reason why I stay away from the city. Those are where the  _crazy_ people live. "I'm Eren, and I was going to ask if you were a part of ou -"

"You know I've never played golf before, but this shit is funny." He inquires. I raise my eyebrow at his voice, something _familiar_  in this tone. "I don't even know what I'm doing and I love it." Then it clicked. Features started to fall into place, and the black hair peeking out of his hoodie shaped his face. Soft, gray muddy eyes and a button nose, along with a shapely jaw and perfect, plump lips. He is short, which is another clue, and he smells completely of acidic Vodka and one spray of Febreeze. Yeah, it was pretty obvious.

"What the fuck? " I bluntly almost yell. The man turns his head to me, finally looking at me with his eyes that looked like puddles of mop water, and frowns a bit. I raise an eyebrow and turn behind me, noticing that my family hasn't even noticed my disappearance and were more focused on starting the game. I turn back to the familiar drunkard and take a chance to ask questions. "Why the hell are  _you_  here? Did you break in? Look, this place is rented out and I'm pretty sure I can call fucking security on you -"

"Security?" The man's eyebrows scrunch up and he looks at me like I'm the craziest person in the world. "I was invited, asshole. Wait a minute. I think I know you? Weren't you the guy who bought me a burger last night?" I don't answer. "Wow. It was good by the way, though my microwave broke so I couldn't heat it up."

"I don't care about your burger! Why are you here?" I shout out. He ignores me, of course, and swings his golf club back and forth out of wit. He then bends down, grabs his coke bottle, and takes a drink out of it. He licks his lips afterward and continues to gaze out at the golf course, _ignoring_  me. I take a deep breath, calming my nerves by digging my fingers into my palm. As calm as possible, I ask again. "Stop drinking soda and answer me."

"This isn't even soda. It's literally Hennessy and grape juice. Haven't you heard of an  _alcoholic's coffee_?"

"Eren." The steady, booming voice of my father comes from behind me. I turn around and see my father, frown on his face and nice-guy facade disappearing. He leans on his golf club and tilts his head toward the guy next to me. "I see you've met Kuchel's son. So how about you come over so we can all introduce ourselves  _properly_?" My jaw practically drops, and I can't believe it. No, I can't believe it. I refuse to. My father tapes a smile to his face and his eyes avert to my step-brother. He flutters his hand at us, telling us to follow him, and before I can even move an inch - the crazy black-haired alcoholic brushes past me and all I can comprehend is the faint smell of Hennessy and grape juice.

* * *

"Hello, my name is Levi Ackerman. I'm twenty-four. My favorite food is tacos, and I like grape juice. I use to have blonde hair in high school and my favorite subject is science. I also don't have my drivers license, but I've been working on it so I can get a decent paying job and then I can get a better apartment. I've recently found out that my hair is actually a really dark brown and that I like golf."

This is how he introduced himself - right in front of my mother, Mikasa, Isabel, that blonde dude, my father, and apparently his mother - Kuchel. Granted, Grisha announced to him to say everything he had to say about himself, just so the awkward spiel of introduction is more interesting. He didn't hesitate to respond in the next few seconds, and after he said his name I replayed it in my head because I finally had a name to a face instead of 'John Doe'. Also, I think it would be valuable to know considering I think he will be causing  _a lot_  of trouble if he stays around long.

After he finishes talking, the last words fluttering out of his pink lips, Grisha nods his head and holds out his hand for a firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Levi. My name is Grisha, and I also have dark brown hair, and it's really a pleasure."He says it in a comical tone, but no one laughs. Levi, as odd of a name that was, takes his hand loosely and doesn't even tighten his palm into my fathers. I can see my father frown a bit at the lack of a masculine handshake, but before he could say anything, Kuchel interrupts for the first time we arrived.

"How about we continue? It's getting hot and I'd love to get some playtime in." I didn't even have to look to hear the sigh Mom exhaled out of her mouth. Grisha agrees and we all get ready to start to golf. As Dad places the ball down and looks along the field, Mom grabs a golf club and begins swinging it in practice, Isabel and her fiance talk and giggle for no reason, Mikasa teaches Jean his position when hitting, and  _Levi_ just stands there and drinks his _'soda'._

I start to zone out afterward, disinterest gaining on me as I watch my family interact with each other with something close to the word love. I lean on my left foot and place my hand into my pocket, glaring at the sight and wishing I could go home and relax. And by relax, I mean laying down on my queen-sized bed and cuddling with all my fluffy pillows, working on my new novel on my laptop, a pizza box on my right and a bottle of Pepsi on my left. Just thinking of it leaves me with the urge to turn around and run away as far as possible. However, I couldn't think of it for long before I smelled that distinct smell in my nose. I focus my eyes and jerk back when I see Levi gazing at me, dull but hypnotizing gray eyes fulfilling me with a question. I recoil from his close presence and take a step back. "What?"

"Did you not hear me, idiot? I said can you show me where the bathroom is? I'm pretty sure you've rented this place out plenty of times and if I have to hold in my piss for more than two minutes I'm going to start windmilling my di-"

"Okay -" I interrupt with not even the slightest of interest in what he was going to say next. I look over at my father, consciously deciding if I want to tell him I was going to show his new 'son' around, and decide against it. I instead wander over to my mother, tap her on the shoulder, and announce to her that I was going to the bathroom. Her eyes brighten, and I almost regret telling her when she throws her club on the ground and voices - "Me too!"

After walking for about five minutes, with me almost getting lost because I haven't been to the course for so long, we find the bathroom. Levi immediately takes his leave after walking so slowly that me and Mom almost forgot he was there. Mom watches him go and whispers to me with a concerned tone. "You know, he smells a lot like Hennessy. And I would know." I roll my eyes and tuck my hands into my pocket.

"Because he is  _insane_. Listen, remember last night when I told you that I was leaving?" Mom's face becomes interested, and her lips pucker up as if she is ready to beat someone crazy. "I ran into him and he basically tried to break into my car" - a loud 'what' resonates from my mother, but I hold my hand up to stop her beginning rant." - well, not really, but that's what it felt like. I offered to take him home, but he was being an ass and I was all like 'hell no' and he was like 'hell yeah, I'm going to this club' and I was all like 'no, you need to go home' because I didn't want him to go in there and get drunk." She recoils at my statement.

"Why did you care? You should have left his ass on the street!" She whispers harshly. I flutter my hand at her and stand my ground.

"I don't know! My mind told me not to, so I didn't. Anyways, so after he got really drunk, I took him home and stuff. But the moral of the story is that he is crazy and an alcoholic and I'm really flabbergasted that Kuchel birthed that."Mom rubs her chin at my story and eventually places her hand on her hip in disbelief. "I mean, if you wanted some tea on Kuchel, there it is."

"Tea? What is that?"

Before I could respond, I hear a thud in the men's restroom. I soon after heard a groan and another thud. Frowning, I look at my mother, who looks back at me just as curious, and walk slowly toward the entrance of the bathroom. My footsteps echo a bit, and when I reach the inside, I see Levi gazing at himself in the mirror as he dabs his lip with a piece of toilet paper. Drops of crimson bleed onto the tissue and our eyes connect in the mirror as I question what the hell could have happened to him in the span of only two minutes. He throws the tissue into the trashcan and turns around to walk towards me. I open my mouth to question what happened, but he beats me to the punch.

"I tripped on some leftover water. Let's not talk about it." With that, he waltzes out of the bathroom. I stay behind for a few minutes before analyzing the floor below that held nothing but dirty,  _dry_  tiles."Hurry up! I don't feel like hearing my mom's mouth if she finds out I'm gone long." I don't bring any attention to the issue and only walk back out of the bathroom. I glance around for my mother and find that she probably walked back to the course without me. Great. Now I'm stuck with this... _psycho_.

By the time we are back to the golf course, Isabel already has her turn on the second hole. Everyone seems to be having a good time, and if it didn't feel so sour on my lips, I would say they look somewhat like a family. Mikasa seems to have stroked up a conversation with Kuchel, and Jean is getting along with Isabel's husband finely considering they are laughing. Grisha takes credit for it all, obviously, as he stands behind them all and looks upon them as if they are his  _masterpieces_. As I slowly approach the group, I ignore the fact that I can't spot my mother anywhere and assume she ran off. So I stand there, gazing upon this so-called family, and shuffle on my feet uncomfortably.

Not alone, however. Levi stands beside me, hands fiddling with each other now that his morning 'coffee' is gone, and tongue peeking out every few seconds to lick the pink wound on his lip. His hair is ruffled, falling in front of his face like he is running his hand through it too many times, and eyes sunken from his dark circles. No matter his exhausted appearance, he still shuffles on his feet similar to mine, and we both somewhat watch disgustingly at the people in front of us. That, I would say, is the only  _similarity_  we share at that moment, and I couldn't help but feel a string connecting us together from it.

* * *

My favorite moments in life is when I am sitting in my bed, pillows cuddling me and caressing my cheek, with a cold Diet Root-beer soda on my nightstand and soft, classical music tuning in my ear. The flashes and shadows of the television would be reflecting on my face, but the volume would be on mute, and my computer would light up - creating a white luminescent on my fingertips as I would write to my fullest desires. The door to my room would be locked, and some days when I am feeling emotionally available, I wish for a sleeping figure next to me breathing softly, adding onto the symphony of music happening around me.

My least favorite moments in life is when I wake up. Usually, my mother is downstairs watching television, blasting it so loud that it startles me out of my sleep, and every so often booming hits from  _Selena_  and dancing expressively. The sun from my window always hits me right in my eye, and I've never had the time to buy a thicker curtain so I've just been living with it. The smell is always awful because sometimes when my mom cooks breakfast, it travels through the vents and there is nothing more that I hate than smelling burnt toast and greasy bacon in the morning. My clothes are usually soaked in sweat because Mom turns off air conditioning because she gets cold at night, and my door is always unlocked and open because Mom comes into my room to check on me. Mom sometimes wakes me up by slapping bills onto my chest, and Mom doesn't like when I sleep past eight. And Mom does this, and Mom does that, and it eventually leads to me going crazy because I can't find a moment of _peace_.

Though I hate to say it, my least favorite moments in life seemingly revolve around my mother.

"You pay thousands of dollars a month on shit like your precious Tesla, but when I ask for a fucking ten dollar bill you have a fit! I really don't understand you, Eren!"

Another negative - my mother's morning arguments.

"I didn't say I wouldn't give it to you, but you can't have my card for ten dollars." I wipe my eyes from deep sleep and pick out the sand in the crevices. Flipping the pristine ivory cover off of my body, I lay my two feet onto my beige carpet and gaze up at my mother's fuming form. She is wearing blue jeans, a yellow blouse, and heels taller than I've ever seen on her. Her hair is propped up in a bun, and I have no idea where she is going for her to be looking so nice. I collide my fingers together and look up at her in a fatigued face. "I don't have any spare cash. Just get some from Mikasa or something."

"She is like twenty minutes away. How would that look if I walked up to her house and asked for money? Be sensible."

 _'Isn't that what you are doing to me?'_  I think to myself. I want to say it out loud, I really do, but after years of experience, I learn it doesn't so any good to get smart with my mother. "Okay."I respond, wiping my face with both my hands. "And my Tesla is paid off by the way, so I don't pay it anymore."

"Whatever, but whenever you need anything from me - don't even bother asking." She leaves me with a glare, and waves her hips out of my room. I sit on my bed, trying to comprehend what just happen, but decide I would never get to a complete answer and opt in getting ready for work instead.

So I grab one of my suits from my suit closet, brush my teeth, take a shower, put on my suit, brush and gel down my hair, apply my watch, put on my thin socks, slide on my pointy shoes, spray on some cologne, tuck in my tie, place on my jacket, rub some chap-stick on my lips, grab my suitcase, grab my keys, and finally - in the span of an hour - I'm ready to go. I walk down the steps of my house, take in the sight of the kitchen that was full of disorder, and sighs in the realization that I would have to clean it when I got home. I avoid walking into it to grab maybe a granola bar, and head to the front door immediately. I don't even want to be home now, if that is what I can even call it. I need to visit my fucking private condo once in a while.

But it's not like being home is even better than where I'm heading now. Work.  _Work._ The essential place where I sit on my overly relaxing chair, preparing myself to get done with about a thousand sheets of paper and equally summed phone calls per hour. Not only do I have to do that, but also walk around the office and keep everything in check regarding the physical look of the office (workers love to bring in food to their cubicles considering they have full-time jobs, and I'll be damned if I get chewed out by my boss for sandwich crumbs), and keep an eye on any new interns. Speaking of interns, I'm suppose to have, I don't know, twenty more today? Great.

When I head to work at Smith's Law Firm, which people consider one of the best law firms in New York but I can't stand the fucking place, I park in my designated area as the head associate, and make sure to take a _long time_  parking. I even decided to pull out of the parking spot and park backwards, just out of shits and giggles. When I finally place it in the park, I sigh loudly and rub my hands onto my face. I dig the eye boogers out my eye, and gaze around the parking lot. I have about three more minutes before I have to clock in, and I decide to mask in it as long as possible. As I wait, my eyes eventually wonder to be nosy into the parked cars next to me, who happens to be my boss - Dot Pixis. It's a decent BMW, shining in silk black with a grey interior. I've always wanted one, but Mikasa persuaded me to get a Tesla. Whatever.

"You're late." I punch in my five digit code into the machine, and look over to see a co-worker of mine standing with a smile on her face. She holds two coffees in her hand, one with a bunch of whip cream and chocolate coated on the top, and the other a simple black mug. I shuffle my feet and smirk, holding out my hand for the coffee. She hands me the sweet one, and when I taste it, I thank the heavens that I couldn't ask for a better assistant.

"Well, you're here with me, doesn't that make you late?" She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her black coffee.

"Actually, I punched in a few minutes ago. I was waiting for you to show up because unfortunately, we have intern troubles and I really didn't want the associates asking me questions."

"Wow, Petra. Didn't you go to Brown?"

"Yeah," She signs softly and cocks her hip. "Those colleges days were the best."

I shake my head at her and begin to walk down the hallway. Petra follows me, heels clicking and strawberry blonde hair flowing behind her, and once I reach the elevator, she pressed the button for me. I try not to groan at her and tell her that I'm capable of doing things myself, but I know she'll ignore me and announce that her _"paycheck needed to count for something."_  The elevator doors open up, flooding us with a sweet blossom smell, and takes us up to the hell the company calls  _'Jaeger's Floor'_.

Jaeger's Floor. Meaning -  _I_  control everything that happens up there. I control what work is finished, what work isn't, what computers aren't working, what interns are learning, what people  _are not_  doing, what people  _are_  doing, what companies are offering - basically everything that has to do with running a business. But I'm not running a business. I'm a fucking lawyer, just like the rest of these shitheads. Now you understand why _I hate Smith's Law Firm_.

"Mr. Jaeger! Good morning, sir!" An associate beams at me. I nod my head, and a flood of greetings follow from multiple cubicles.

"Mr. Jaeger, you look nice today!"

"Hello sir, I hope you have a nice day."

"Mr. Jaeger, we have issues with the -"

"Mr. Jaeger does not take complaints until he settles in -" Petra almost shouts at the mob of people that have started to crowd up to me. Most of them are workers who are suppose to train interns today, and they probably have questions about the schedule. Good luck for them because they don't have to worry about that anymore. Yep. No more. It's not like I don't hate my life already, but just my luck I have to train all of these fucking inte - " - once he attends to his office, he will gladly pull in anyone who has questions. Thank you!" Petra pushes me to start walking, and I do as fast as I can to my office.

Once I'm in the comfort of my own office, which smells like gross detergent and lingering coffee, I take a seat and immediately light the vanilla candle next to me with a lighter from my desk. I take off my jacket, trying not to glance at the stack of papers I didn't get the chance to finish yesterday, and turn on the computer system near me. As I do, Petra reappears from her five minute walk around to check on associates, and heads into my office. As she does, she sighs and holds up her clipboard in demise.

"Well, from what I can hear, about three workers need to talk to you about emails that did not send, and the others were about the interns today - which I told them they would not have to worry considering Dr. Pixis decided we would work on those cases together." She clicks her pen and bites her lip before letting out a chuckle. "No pun intended."

"Send in one of the three I guess, and refrain from talking to me for the rest of the day." I try to say with all seriousness, but Petra only laughs and wonders out of my office door. As if someone had pressed a red button on me, like a factory machine, I unemotionally begin to work on replying to emails and adding things to my agenda. I can feel my fingers beginning to tense up, and I take second breaks to stretch them before starting once more. This pattern continues, a cycle of emotionless work, until the door of my office opens. In walks one of my regular associates, with perfectly brushed light brown hair, a gray button-up shirt, and slacks attire. I gaze up for a second and wait for him to speak.

"Mr. Jaeger, sorry to disturb you, but the floor has a couple of questions to ask you." I raise my eyebrow in response. He chuckles a bit. "I decided to gather everyone's issues and just tell you upfront, just because the new interns are coming in soon and I'd rather you be stress free." " _'Isn't that Petra's job'?_  I think to myself, and wonder why I even decided to have that lazy woman as my assistant anyways. All she does is eat donuts and talk about her time at Brown University. So much for the top law firm in the city.

"Okay, so what are the issues with the floor?" I respond. He shakes his head and holds onto his hand as he names off the issues.

"Well, Gunther believes that his email he sent to you for his document review for the latest merging got accidentally deleted, so he asked for an extended deadline." I want to curse, but he continues. "Also, Oluo asked if he could switch cubicles with Nanaba, because he wants his desk closer to Petra -"

"Why are they bothering me with such trivial shit?" I begin to shout. The associate flinches at the tone of my voice, and folds his hands in front of him. He opens his mouth to continue, but I shut him up with the wave of my hand. "Listen, all due diligence files are due today, since we have such unprofessional issues occurring. This is Smith's Law Firm, not anything less. I expect nothing below advanced from an  _eighty percent Ivy League or similar_  lawyer staff. This is not preschool, and tell Oluo if he can not get his head out of his ass from his bothersome attraction my assistant, then he can head back to New Hampshire." Suddenly, my phone rings loudly. I hold my finger up to hold him in place, and answer the call with irritation. "Hello?"

"Mr. Jaeger, all of your interns are here for their training."  _'Great._ ' I think solemnly. My fingers find themselves squeezing the bone between my eyes, and I reply as composed as possible.

"Okay, thank you. I'll send down someone to collect them." I hang up quickly, and look at the assistant near me. "What is your name? What and where did you study at?" He jumps at my pondering question. By him opening and closing his mouth, I can tell he has never been shown that much attention here. That is expected, because it is easy to get lost here among all the different floors and ignorant ass people.

"Moblit Berner, sir. I majored in legal studies and minored in criminology at Northwestern University."

"Interesting. Well, Mr. Berner." I sit up from my desk and begin to fix my suit. "You are me today. While I train the interns, I expect you to handle all floor abilities. This means questions, issues, your own paperwork, and onward. If you come across anything that becomes too burdensome, place it onto a small note and I'll take care of it later." I fix my sleeve by rolling up the cuffs. Moblit almost looks like a fish, his mouth dropped open and closing every few seconds. I ignore him, grab a stack of papers I typed up to give interns, and head towards the entrance of my office. "You went to Northwestern University, Moblit. Don't underestimate your ability." I avoid paying attention to Moblit's nod of pride, and head upstairs to meet Smith's Law Firm's new interns.

We take interns in as much as we can, considering we are one of the most famous law firms and the only way to get our name out is to attack upscale college students (sometimes high school) and bring them in. Though there is a low chance they'll get the job afterwards, it's still a a great opportunity where they can continue onward to some high quality companies. The company only accepts twenty percent of our interns as real associates, where usually the ones chosen have exemplar experience and go to highly selective colleges. So, the whole point is that the majority of these interns, after three months, I will never see again. And sad to say, I sometimes get attached to the little shits. I'm a child at heart, and it doesn't help I don't have many friends.

"Wow that sounded sad in my head."I whisper to myself. I am standing in the elevator, checking over the papers in my hand for grammar mistakes and tapping my foot annoyingly. Finally, the elevator rings open, and I can see associates, my boss, his assistant, Petra, and other floor managers standing as they look upon the interns all sitting in chairs. There is about twelve of them - all of them thankfully wearing proper clothes. I make sure to pay attention to details, such as if their slacks had dog hairs, their shirts too big or small, or if the girls' pencil skirts were at the proper length. I find about twenty different errors in every single one, and remind myself to go over uniform policy when it was my time to speak.

"There he is - Dr. Jaeger!" My boss, Pixis, announces with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"Hello, sir." I nod my head at him and smile in thanks at his professional address. "How have you been?"

"Splendid! Even better now that I know you are here -" I chuckle softly at his words. Pixis picks up a stack of books wrapped in plastic and pushes it into my hands. I jerk a bit, my eyes widening, and take the stacks of books into my arms. Pixis laughs and nods his head. "So how about you get this training started, huh? I have a partner meeting about trivial things, you know, and I really dislike interns." He turns toward his secretary and wiggles his finger for them to come forward. "We'll be leaving now."

"Uh -" I stutter, almost wanting to scream when he avoided my reluctance and practically ran toward the elevator. "But I..."

"Oh Mr. Jaeger!" My gaze snaps in front of me, and I see Petra glaring at me as if I had fired her, which I would not be surprised if I did considering how horrible she is at her job. My eyes hood over a bit, and I glare at two floor managers, associates, and new interns waiting for me to speak as if I was the fucking boss of this company. Reality check: I'm literally just a fucking associate like everyone else. Why am I the suddenly the _'go to'_  boss? Why doesn't my pay check reflect this?  _'How typical. A wealthy guy wanting more money. God, I am a piece of shit._ '

"Good morning, interns." My voice resonates the entire seventh floor. I ram the papers into Petra, who stands next to me with a beaming smile on her face, and she grips onto it for dear life so it doesn't fall. I take that time to fix my suit, my tie, and wipe the bottom half of my face. "Welcome to Smith's Law Firm. My name is Eren Jaeger, you may call me Dr. Jaeger - though most people in this building persist calling me mister because apparently, lawyers don't earn proper doctorates." Soft laughter echos the floor, and I smile at bit at each intern to make them feel more comfortable.

"Smith's Law Firm, as you can see, is one of the largest law firms in New York. We have about fifty lawyers in the building, and that evidently excludes non-lawyer positions. For example, Ms. Ral here -" I tilt my hand to my left to point to Petra standing pretty and waving at the interns. "- She is a paralegal, but is additionally my legal assistant. We also have other non-lawyer positions, but you will learn about those sooner or later." I take a deep breathe, swallow to moisten the dryness forming in my mouth, and continue the typical introduction.

"I am currently a head associate and manager of the sixth floor. Therefore, if you are assigned to any lawyers on my floor, I will be checking up on you and making sure you are receiving the proper training. This applies to other floors as well. We have about seven floors - with each having a floor manager. Unfortunately, they are not all present but we do have Ms. Brzenska -" I point to the short, scowling blonde woman with her arms cross behind me. " - who is the manager of the fifth floor." I see the interns gulp at her intimidating aura, and I think in the back of my head that whoever gets her floor will probably have the most miserable time. "You will meet the other five soon enough."

About twenty minutes of describing the ways of the law firm pass, with me describing how we were different from typical ones, but also the same. The interns soon enough start to get bored, their legs bouncing up and down in their chairs and faces ready to physically get into the life of a miserable lawyer. Though, I have to admire their determination, and after having Petra pass out paperwork and pamphlets full of information they would look at later in the day - I decide it was time to assign floors. Petra smirks when I say this, probably because her break is coming up, and clicks her pen as she stares at her clipboard.

"When I call your name, I will provide you with information about your associate, what floor they are located on, and how many hours we have given you. Please, if you have any questions, wait until you have been in contact with your lawyer - " She chuckles slightly. " - and we can go from there. Is that clear? " They all respond 'yes' like obedient little dogs. I sigh slightly and shuffle the papers in my hand that contained information about the interns on my floor. I would have to go through it later and bring them in for a personal introduction, which is usually my favorite part. I enjoy learning about student's lives oddly. They are always better than mine, which is relaxing to know that not everyone's life is shit like mine.

"Historia Reiss." Petra shouts out. A short, blond long-haired girl with a solid pencil skirt, a proper sized white button up, and onyx blazer walks up with her shiny heels reflecting light. She smiles at Petra, pearly whites blinding even me, and I almost chuckle when I see Petra scowl at how gorgeous she was. I breathe out my temptation to laugh, and watch my assistant hand the young woman a sheet of paper containing her information in the text. Her lips curl up once more, and she walks away with a subtle thank you to both of us. Petra pushes her hair behind her ear and continues to call names.

When the majority of the interns are gone, leaving only one left, I contemplate heading back to my floor. Before I could, however, Petra gasps slightly and looks over at me slyly. "Interesting. Armin Arlert?" Another blonde (seems like we are scattered with them this year) comes out of the woodwork and nervously strolls up to us. I have to be honest, he is one of the best dressed out of all the interns. Though his suit is a simple black and white, it holds no tacky patterns and looks completely professional. His hair is properly combed and straighter than I have ever seen a hairstyle.

"You are assigned with Mr. Jaeger." Petra spits out. I raise my eyebrow, lean my head out in disbelief, and open my mouth to retaliate.

"What? I'm not suppose to be assigned any interns. Pixis emailed me that -"

"Well, it looks like he changed his mind. Mr. Arlert, welcome to the best floor in the building!" Petra smiles kindly and holds out her hand for a handshake. Arlert takes it, and confidently lets out a thank you for his chance to work here. I want to let out the biggest sigh, but I realize how unprofessional that would be, and I didn't need Petra riding up my ass later about how I should act more like a  _'Harvard graduate.'_  It's not like I even liked it there. So, instead, I lead him downstairs and run as fast as possible away from the floor associates who were waiting to talk to me about stupid shit.

The minute I reach my office with Arlert, he is standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room while I sat at my desk. I try not to make eye contact, and finally, decide to speak. "You can take a seat. I won't bite, Mr. Arlert."

"Oh - sure, sir."

"So," I wonder my eyes over to my computer and begin checking my email. "Where are you from? We don't accept a lot of in-state students, surprisingly." He tilts his head at the confession, probably shocked that we were a company that did the exact opposite of others, and shuffles in his seat before he answers.

"Massachusetts, sir. I was born and raised." I nod in response and unconsciously respond to an email.

"Where do you go to school?"

"Princeton University, sir. They fortunately paid for me to travel here and acquire this internship for three months."  _'Acquire...nice word choice.'_  I want to laugh, because I know damn well I hate big words used in casual conversation, but decide against it.

"Ah, so that's why they assigned you to me. I guess Harvard and Princeton are equally leveled, huh?" I laugh inwardly, but Arlert only gives a comfortable smile.

"Well, they consider Princeton to be the best school in America, but I'd gladly go to Harvard instead."

"What? Orange not your color?"

"Oh -" He laughs once more. " - No, it's just closer to home. Is there any reason you went to Harvard?"

A very personal question I honestly don't know the answer to. In a typical world, going to grand schools such as Harvard or Princeton is a huge accomplishment - and ultimately determine your importance and influence in the world. I was a hardworking student in my previous college. I got exemplary scores on my testing, kept a minimum of a 4.0, and participated in every activity that involved writing, being in competitions, or volunteer work. But honestly, I planned to go to community college, or a small liberal arts private college where I could express myself without much attention. But instead, my dumbass decided to apply to Harvard Law School, and eventually got accepted, and my mom would be damned if I denied such an opportunity.

I never really considered they didn't give me any money (I wasn't that lucky), so now I still pay off loans even though I have a significant paying job. I don't have any memorable friends there like I did in my previous college. Some days, I wish I would have just stayed there, because maybe I would have had the guts to change my major. Now I'm just stuck doing this shit every day. Just my luck. So no, there was no reason for me to go to Harvard other than the fact it was a symbol of success in the world - and that was something I desperately wanted.

"No." I reply nonchalantly to my new intern assistant. He seems a little shocked, but gets over it when I shut off my computer and push over a stack of papers. Smirking, I tap it and look at Arlert with a mixture of feeling sorry for him, but also the excitement of doing something different. "But let's get to work, yeah?"


	4. Blue Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Levi find themselves in some trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken a break on 'Let's Talk About It' to write this chapter. I've been feeling the Lawyer!Eren vibes.

There is a specific reason why I don't accept family related phone calls at work. The first being that my mom would always call me on other law firm numbers when I wouldn't answer my personal, resulting in varying amounts of my co-workers getting yelled at and me threatening to fire them if they even dared raised their pitch at my mother. The second being my father. He _loves to_ call me at work, which is concerning considering he is a fucking doctor and should be doing his job. He also loves to ask me  _'what I am doing'_ , like I'm not working on thousands of documents and controlling a whole mini-business.

The last is the overall effect: anger. Those two people always seem to drive me crazy after their phone calls, and knowing me, it's hard for me to stop being angry once I'm  _there_. I'd rather not decrease my position effectiveness or lose my job because my mom decided to call me about why there is no milk in the damn fridge.

Therefore, I ask Petra to decline calls from my mother and father's numbers at all times. I've even written down three different phone numbers they may call from, and though Petra snapped at me once for putting so much pressure on her to be rude to people, I've never taken back my decision to exclude them from my work life. They intrude in daily life well enough.

So, when Petra comes into my office, red lips puckered up and eyes glowering with frustration and assert that my father has been calling  _consistently_  - I am nothing but irritated. Armin had been overseeing me as I work on paperwork, and we were actually having a decent conversation. I found out that he is actually quite young, being only twenty in his junior year of college, and that he previously was going to head into medical. However, after being pulled into politics by his grandfather, he decided to go another route. He kind of reminded me of myself - considering it wasn't hard to see the sparkle in his eye when he brought up becoming a doctor.

He once mentioned he wanted to attend community college, which made me recoil in slight shock. He laughed at my reaction and only responded that - "I just wanted to be near home. That was all that mattered to me." I ceased in asking any more questions from there considering in present time, he is in fact far  _away_  from home. Any questions he tried to throw at me, I immediately dodged and focused on the task at hand. I mean, I'm an almost twenty-nine-year-old man, I don't need to be spilling my feelings out to a twenty-year-old.

"Mr. Jaeger," Petra grinds through her teeth. She holds the phone to her face tightly and glares at me. I stop writing on the documents in front of me and place down my pen. "Your father has been calling throughout the whole day. I'll transfer him to your line. As for you, Mr. Arlert -" Armin looks up from the small notebook he brought and raised an eyebrow at my assistant. " - follow me. I'll introduce you to the others on the floor." She smiles harmlessly. Armin nods gazes at me for confirmation and makes his way out of my office.

When the door closes softly, I sigh loudly and pick up the phone to the right of my desk. Pulling it to my ear, I am welcomed to the sound of my father talking in the background. "Hello?"

"Eren? Thank -  _finally_! I've been trying to get a hold of you all day!"

"I apologize -" I say with the least amount of regret in my words. "I've been working with interns all day."

"That's fine. I just have a favor for you to do."  _Oh great_. "Do you remember Kuchel's son? The one who smelled of um - what was it? - Ci -"

"Vodka? Yes, I remember." I try not to roll my eyes at his way of words. "By the way,  _that_  is Kuchel's son? Don't you think she should get him some help or something? He is a little -"

"Crazy? Yes, believe me, I know. Kuchel has told me some stories about him and it makes me a little thankful to have you. Either way, apparently he went to a job interview today at Petco near London street." My forehead bumps up a bit. I tilt my head and refrain from itching my forehead.

"What do I have to do with this?"

"Well -" He pauses. "He didn't get the job. He called Kuchel asking if she could pick him up, because  _remember he doesn't have a license,_  but she refuses to go." I want to respond to why his own mother didn't want to go pick up her own son, but I stop the comment before it exists. "So, I need you to pick him up."

"Wha - why can't you?"

"Because I have work in a few minutes."

"I am at work  _right now_."

"Listen Eren," Dad sucks in a breath and releases it seconds later. "He has caused her so much trouble, and I wouldn't do anything for the little shit, but that is her son and I can't sit here and watch her suffer over him." Another pause. "And he is your step-brother now, so get used to taking care of a sibling now. Maybe this is your time to get closer to him. "

"Oh, fuck yo-" Before I could finish, the phone beeps and I am left hearing my own deep breaths.

So, I have to pick up my failure of a step-brother, who is also an alcoholic mind you, and take him back to his failure apartment as well. Great. And I still have two hours left at work. In addition to that, I have to check up on all of the interns to make sure they are alright, but I can't even do that because I have to  _pick up my step-brother._

With an almost life-threatening sigh, I dial multiple numbers on my phone and cuddle it to my ear. "Petra? Yes. I'm going to need you to take my position for the next two hours." The minute Petra begins spewing moans and grunts about how her 'job was hard enough', I contemplate stabbing myself in the eye with the ballpoint pen next to me. That was _just_ what I needed.

Minutes later, I am sliding into my sleek car and blasting the air conditioner as I look for directions to the nearest Petco. I don't have any pets, so how the hell am I supposed to know where the shit is? I scrunch up my face and glare at the phone. I finally get the directions and head to the nearest store, hoping it is the one the alcoholic is at and that it isn't anywhere farther.

Petco's sign shines with neon blue lettering, and as I travel through the parking lot, I notice a crowd of people near a cage of animals. I ignore it and find a parking spot. I get out the car with reluctant movement. My body lingers, but eventually, I slam the door closed and lock it. The crowd is pretty large, with mostly children playing with small puppies and adults talking among themselves. I search for a head of dark hair and small frame, but after a few minutes, I still can't find him.

"Dogs aren't supposed to have chocolate, so don't feed him that, you little shit."

Found him.

There he stood, small puppy in his arms that didn’t hesitate to sneak subtle licks onto his pale chin. Levi’s thin hand runs through the puppy’s soft coat and soon travels up to rub the animal on its ears. A grin is faint on his plump lips, and his eyes have a certain glint to him. The children that surrounded him tried to pet the puppy. It wasn’t hard to reach considering he is only about five feet, but I could tell he was damn near sick of the kids putting their filthy hands on the animal.

“Listen kid, if you touch him again I will beat you with a fucking dog bon – “

“Um, excuse me.” I interrupt quickly. Levi’s head pops up, and the four children surrounding him turn to gaze at me as well. I laugh slightly and place my hand on the taller child’s shoulder. “How about you kids go play with husky down there. You know they have some of the prettiest eyes on a dog?” Their eyes widen, and they all look each other like that just found a pot of gold.

“Where is that doggy at?” A kid says with excitement in his voice. I point to a big crowd near the end of the Petco and try and feign amusement in my tone of voice.

“Down there. Better hurry before they take him back inside!” They scatter off soon enough, but not before giving me a brief ‘thank you, mister’. As they do, I look toward Levi and my amusement immediately wears off.

“You don’t talk to kids like that.” I try to say as serious as possible. Levi raises his eyebrow, cocks a hip, and sassily glares at me as he pets the tiny dog in his hands. “No, seriously, you could go to jail for that.”

“Why not – “He shrugs his shoulders. “I use to get talked to like that all the time.”

“Well, unlike you, they have normal parents – so refrain from acting like a total psycho every day?” I forgot for a brief moment that his mother was my step-mother, Kutchel, and I suddenly wondered if Levi was referring to her speaking to him similar as a child. I diffuse the questioning in my head before it can blossom either way. I have work to do, and family issues are the last thing I need on my mind these days. “Anyways, I was asked to pick you up and take you home.” I jiggle the keys in my hand the signify my urgency. Levi sighs slightly and walks up toward me. He wiggles his head when I don’t turn around and scrunches his eyebrows.

“Then let’s go. I don’t have all day.” What do you even do in your day? Mix wine coolers with soda and see how drunk you can get? I roll my eyes and head toward my car. We walk away from the ruckus of the Petco toward the comfort of my car. I see Levi’s eyes widen at the sight of my car and subtly overlooking it with admiration. “What happened to that ugly ass mini?”

“It’s technically my mom’s. I bought this one.” I respond quickly. I open the door to the Tesla and unlock his passenger door. He drops his body into the car, and only then do I notice that he still has the small animal tucked into the corner of his elbow. “Are you suppose to have that?” Levi notices my question seconds after closing the door and nods his head like it was evident that the animal was his.

“Yes, you idiot, I bought him.” He clicks his seat belt and cuddles the puppy more into his lap. I want to ask how he bought him, or rather with what money did he get to buy him, but I figure it was none of my business to question someone else’s financial situation. I say nothing else as I begin to drive out of the parking lot to the Petco. Levi is completely quiet, and the only sound I can hear is the soft cries of the tiny creature in his arms.

“Did you buy milk for it? It looks pretty young.” Levi sighs immediately as I talk. I want to kick him out my car again, but I know if I did it would only cause more issues between my father and I.

“Listen, I know how to take care of a puppy. I’ve had plenty. Stop biting my dick over it. Just take me home, and that’s it.”

“Did you forget to take a shot or some shit this morning? You’re awfully asshole-ish this morning.” I want to laugh at my own joke, but Levi only glares at me from the corner of his eye.

“Actually, I did. But thanks for demeaning me otherwise, you big-shot, tall, goofy, corny, white ass Bill Gates.” I didn’t even know how to respond to the insult. I scrunch my face up and look over at Levi who said the insult like it was normal. I shrug my shoulders and decide instead of making another argument, I respond more positively.

“That was a good insult.”

“Thanks, I get a lot of practice whenever your ass comes along.”

“We have only met each like three other times.”

“Well, you piss me off that much. Now shut up and let me enjoy the confines of my own thoughts – thank you.”

 _‘You have thoughts?’_ I want to respond with. But the minute Levi tilts his head back and slides down the passenger seat to relax, I decided it was best to avoid a confrontation at the moment. We drive in silence for a few minutes as I make my way to what I thought was the way to Trost. I eventually find myself slightly lost and begin pressing buttons on my dashboard to pull up my GPS. Levi notices after a few minutes of me tapping buttons and rolls his eyes obnoxiously.

“Why the fuck are you in the county?” He asks me. I contain my frustration and try to focus on the road and finding the right street to turn down toward Trost. Levi sits up in his seat and looks out the front window. I see him reading street signs before he points at an intersection in front of us. “Do a U-turn right here. You are _way_ past my apartment.”

“I can’t do a U-turn, that’s fucking illegal.”

“No, it’s not.” He says it like it’s the most annoying thing I’ve said all day.

“Yes, it is!” I raise my voice slightly. “How are you going to tell me – I’ve studied New York’s laws for years!”

“Then why am I from Texas and I know more about how serious New York takes that law? People literally do U-turns likes it’s a fucking circus in this bitch. Just _turn around_.” His voices raise and it almost makes me believe him for a second. I get in the left turning lane near concrete and try to think on how to turn around. “I swear to god if you turn down this street and go into a parking lot a mile away to turn around, I’m going to kill myself.”

“Jesus Christ – is it that deep?” I begin to take a left turn slightly. I find humor in his exaggerations.

“Yes!” Levi leans over to the driver’s seat as I attempt to turn down a street. He pushes the wheel left, causing me to lose control of the wheels and eventually turn around completely in the middle of an intersection. My feet go on and off the brake, and my heart pounds quickly when I hear multiple horns around me. “Just turn!” I don’t even have time to respond or comprehend what just happen. My jaw is hanging and I finally get control of the wheel. I drive the opposite way toward the city once more and breathe in.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I finally begin to say. Levi leans back into his passenger seat and pets the puppy in my lap like _he did nothing wrong_. I look in my rearview mirror to make sure I’m totally safe, but I fail to hear the faint sirens in the background over the turmoil happening in my head. “You could have killed us! You are never fucking driving with me again. That was psychotic, and this car cost me over hundred thousand dollars, and if you would have fucking crashed it I would have fucking lost it – “

That is when I finally hear the sound of police sirens becoming louder and louder as I speak. My eyebrows scrunch up, and I look in my rearview mirror and see a solid black car with crimson and blue lights riding my ass. My jaw drops, and I slow down just to see if he would try to cut me off. He doesn’t. “No fucking way,” I mutter to myself. “I swear to god…” I pull over either way. As I do, the cop drives past me, giving me a sense of relief, but he immediately pulls over in front of me. “Oh, fuck no!”

“You _would_ get caught.” Levi murmurs to me. I want to lean over and choke him in frustration. I place my car in park and rub my hands through my hair in stress.

“I can’t believe this. I haven’t been pulled over in years. This…this is just…”

“Normal?” Levi responds. I don’t have a rebuttal, because it isn’t normal for me. I grip the wheel in front of me and try to simmer down my anxiety. The cop, after about three minutes of just sitting in his car, jumps out of the car with his partner in crime. “Ah, shit.” I hear Levi groan out, but I ignore it and roll down my window. I wait for the cop to approach my car before I start to place on my façade as a preppy lawyer. Hopefully, it would get me out of a ticket.

“Good evening, officer. What seems to be the problem?” I ask. The cop stops in front of my window, sunglasses tight on his face and slacks hugging his thick thighs. He places his hairy hands on his hip and looks at Levi in the passenger seat. He says nothing. I look at Levi for a second and notice him staring at the dashboard like we weren’t being pulled over. The other cop is gazing into the car through the windows.

“You are aware that U-turns are illegal here in this county?” His accent makes me want to barf. I scratch the back of my head and nod slightly. The cop nods as well. “License and registration.” I grab my license out of my suit pocket and grab the registration from the pocket on my mirror. The cop takes it and brings it back over to his cop car. We aren’t left alone. The other cop keeps staring in the car, hands behind his pack, and awfully finds a certain interest in Levi’s figure.

I can see Levi’s face scrunch up when the cop pulls out a mini flashlight. He shines it in Levi’s face as if the sunlight around us wasn’t enough. “ _Well_ , good afternoon Mr. Ackerman.” I want to stab myself.

“You two know each other?” I blurt out. Levi ignores me and responds to the cop.

“Good afternoon.” – is all he says. The cop bursts out laughing and leans against the car.

“You are actually sober this evening? Or do you need a test?”

“Actually,” Levi’s voice just sounds like he is about to say something to get us both arrested. “I’m a passenger this time. Your problem should not be with me.” The cop takes the flashlight off of Levi’s form. He lifts himself off the car and places his hands on his hips.

“I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle, Ackerman.” He stands a few feet away from the passenger side, waiting patiently for Levi to exit the car. When I see Levi’s hand reaching for the handle, my forehead scrunches up and I almost want to throw a book at Levi explaining basic human rights. I grab his jacket and pull it, making sure the officer couldn’t hear me.

“You know you can say no, dumbass.” In all honesty, I didn’t trust Levi getting out of the car. Next thing I know he has drugs hanging out his pants and we both get into some trouble. Levi only rolls his eyes, shrugs his body off my hand, and clicks the door open.

“You know that never leads to anything good, dumbass.” And with that, he exits the car and places his hands against the vehicle. I watch his figure outside of the car window. The officer pushes his wrist against the car higher and peeks a glance at me. Our eyes meet, and next thing I know there is a knock on the driver’s window.

“Eren Jaeger?” My head flips to the rear window, and I see the other officer handing me back my license and registration. “I recognize that name.” He voices as he rubs the corners of his mouth. I smile slightly

“Yes. You may know my father – Grisha Jaeger?”

“No.” The officer leans his forearm onto my car and settles his eyes on me through his dark sunglasses. “I may know _you_. Can you step out the car for me?” My eyes scrunch up and I rest my hand on the wheel.

“I don’t mean to give you any disrespect or suspicion, but I’d rather stay in my vehicle, sir.” He stares at me in silence. I want to look over to see if Levi was finished with his pat down, but the demeaning glares the officer gifted me on this fine day kept me in my place. I hope to god I wasn’t given a pair of toy-gun happy assholes this morning.

“– agh!” My thoughts are shot through when I hear a grunt. I finally get the guts to cut contact and look over at the passenger window. Just my luck I see Levi pushing against the officer, fingers clutching the back of his neck as he tries to throw the officer to the ground with his small stature. His teeth dig into his bottom lip, and the officer pushes him against the car roughly to retaliate against the digging into his neck. My jaw drops, and when I hear the officer near me shouting at Levi and see him pulling out something from his _belt_ – I jump out of the car as fast as possible.

“WAIT!” The office looks over at me quickly, anger in his form. He forgets about his belt – thankfully - and attacks me. He pushes me against the car, thick fingers gripping my forearm as he ties them behind my back. My form contorts, and I double over in quick pain as the tension in my muscles screams. Soon enough, I feel a cold metal enclosing around my wrist. The officer pushes my face against the cold concrete, ignoring cars that have to swerve to avoid getting in the way. No honks, no help, no interruption. I breathe out my nose noisily. All I can hear is Levi cursing out the officer, verbal yells of – “you motherfucker!” or “I will fucking kill you!” surrounding us. The officer responds with grunts and if I stopped breathing so hard, I could probably hear the subtle whispers the officer was saying to Levi.

They must have driven him crazy because the next thing I know I hear the officer muffling him and shouting for him to shut up. When he finally does, we are dragged into the cop car. The faint cry of a small dog scratches the inside of my ear, and Levi struggles once more. It is an effortless fight, and as the puppy Levi supposedly bought is taken away, I am somewhat reminded of being a child once more. Weak, controlled, and dependent.

I am quiet the entire ride. 

* * *

 

We are placed in a small cell for the meantime. We both get one phone call, of course, and as I contemplate on who would be better to call, I wonder what the fuck happened to start this whole shit show.  I rub my sore forehead and shuffle on the uncomfortable metal bed. I glance up at Levi who is laying down on the other bed, lip puckered up and arms crossed like he got a toy taken away from him. In a small part of my brain, I truly believe he is madder about the dog rather than being in jail. Then again, it doesn’t come as much as a surprise.

“God, they beat the shit out of you.” Levi looks up at me for my comment. His face scrunches up and he touches his sore, cut open bottom lip. His left eye is swollen slightly and is a bright red. It spreads to his cheek that holds small cuts and a purple bruise. Looking at his injuries make me self-conscious of mine, where I only have a sore jaw and a deep red bruise forming on my forehead.

“Whatever. That’s why you have a knot on your forehead.”

“What – “I roll my eyes and rub my forehead. The pain increases, and I groan when I feel a thick bump forming. “ _Shut up._ You got us into this fucking mess.” He doesn’t respond. He only looks up at the concrete ceiling. I continue cockily. “What made you think hitting an officer would get us out of a ticket? He almost pulled out a fucking _gun_ on you.”

“No shit,” Levi responds. He glares at me with evident anger on his face. “I forgot they had those.”

“Are you – are you serious?”

“Yes!” He sits up on the bed. “He usually doesn’t carry a gun.”

“He is a police officer! Of course, they have fucking guns. Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Ugh, shut up!” Levi looks at me, nose puckering up in disgust as he crosses his arms once more. “The real question is when I am going to get my fucking dog back!” He yells out of the cell, glaring at the officers sitting at the desk doing paperwork. “I paid good money for him!”

 _Speak of the devil._ I think to myself the minute I see the officer Levi fought heading into the cell holding room with the small puppy in his arms. It coos and whines, obviously not liking the rough grip. The officer roughly places the dog on the wooden desk next to him and puts his hands on his belt arrogantly. “Eren Jaeger. You get one phone call.” He presses a button on his desk and the cell door opens. I hurriedly exit, happy to finally have the chance to tell someone about my predicament. I expect the officer to watch over me as I make my phone call, but he instead walks over to Levi in the cell and speaks in a low voice to him. I turn my attention away from the sly conversation and dial my mother’s number.

“He – Hello? Hello?” It takes me a moment to respond. I’m not sure why, but a small feeling in my gut tells me that I should _not_ have called my mother. “ _What_!”

“Mom?” I whisper slightly. “It’s me – Eren. Where are you right now?”

“Eren? Uh – I’m at the nail salon? Why? Where are you? Why are you calling from this number?”

“Okay so…listen. Please do not start yelling at me because I only have a couple minutes. Okay?” She doesn’t answer. “Okay?”

“ _Okay_ , Eren! Hurry up and tell me!”

“So, Dad told me to pick up Levi – that one weird ass guy at golf – from a job interview because he wasn’t able to and Levi doesn’t have a car. So, I offered, and we were driving home, and I got pulled over, and they asked Levi to get out the car, _he did_ , and then he _punched the police officer in the face._ I tried to stop him and got tackled. So I’m at Trost County Jail and I have no idea _what the fuck is happening_ but I really need you here to seduce or do _something_ because battery against an officer can literally be a year in jail or five years in prison and I’m guilty by association and I just really need you to –“

I’m cut off by the sound of the dial.

“Son of a fucking bitch.” I slam the phone back into the holder and let a frustrated groan. I pray in the back of my mind that she would remember the area and head here as soon as possible. I turn back around and see the officer and Levi still speaking. I’m surprised I didn’t hear his voice screeching over the phone. Levi leans against the cell bars, head tilted and hair purposely pulled behind his ear to show off his youthful features. The officer’s voice is still soft and feather-like. I squint my eyes at the overall scene.

Were they…are they _flirting_?

“I’m done,” I announce loudly. They ignore me – lost in their own conversation. I cross my arms and tap my foot against the ground heavily. “I said – _I’m done_.” Levi's eyes finally makes contact with me. The officer turns his head when he realizes the attention isn’t all on him. He scowls at me and wagers his finger for me to head back into the cell. I do as told, and flinch when I hear the defeating clunk of metal collide. And with that, the officer gives one last glance at Levi, walks over to his desk, and grabs the puppy from the desk that was close to falling. He places him on the floor and walks out of the room. I scrunch my eyes in confusion.

“Why didn’t you make a phone call?” I see a faint smile on Levi’s face. He bends down on his knees and makes clicking noises for the puppy to crawl over to him. The minute the dog reaches Levi’s grasp, he pulls him through the bars and cuddles the small mammal into his chest. He has a face of warmth, arrogance, and reassurance. He answers in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No one would pick up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a hard month. Hopefully I can get back to writing soon - it always makes me feel better. But thank you so much for reading.


	5. Grisha Jaeger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A switch in perspective.

The whole time I’m sitting in the cellar, Levi’s small puppy is barking, squirming, and trying it’s best to make as much as noise as possible. He tries to cuddle it to his chest, only making it even more irritated, and I finally come to the conclusion that the animal is probably hungry. “Did they feed him before you bought him?” Levi hesitates before answering me. He averts his greyish eyes and places the mammal onto the rock-hard pillow near him.

“I don’t know.”

“How do you not know? You should keep track of his eating schedules. Have you ever given him a name yet?” Levi scoffs at my accusation. He scratches the dog behind its ear and runs his fingers through its short coat.

“ _Yes_. It’s Eddy.”

“Oh god,” I run my hand down my face and lean against the white brick wall. I almost want to cower over in actual pain. “Might as well get two more and call them Ed and Edd.”

“I don’t know what joke you’re hinting at, but it isn’t funny. Refrain from talking me the rest of this time if you could.”

“Whatever.”

We sit on a cloud of silence. It hovers over us and keeps our emotions at bay. Minutes pass by, and all I can think about is if Petra is maintaining the floor well enough and whether my mother decided to finish her pedicure before heading over to the jail. I rub my forehead at the thought and contemplate taking off the uncomfortable suit and tie. I decline against it and only loosen the tie. It gives my throat time to take in the air, and though the initial is nice, I can’t help but feel even more suffocated seconds after.

“Eren _Edward_ Jaeger.” – the announcement booms throughout the holding cell, or maybe it was just me and my hidden fear bubbling in my gut. My eyes reluctantly turn toward the figure that called my name, and my jaw almost drops when I see the figure standing in the doorway with the look of simple disappointment on his face. Grisha, who is the last person I wanted to see in this catastrophe if it wasn’t evident enough, shakes his head and orders the officer to open the cell door. I feel a hint of jealousy overshadowing me when the officer complies with no other words. It was as if my father was the higher power – but he was simply a doctor. That is all he is, but he can somehow release this dominant aura with just his eyes and a little bit of pocket money. It is something I have always admired and despised at the same time.

Levi at the side of me stays seated with an outlook of boredom on his face. No matter that the fact his step-father had come to save him from a jail cell. But then again, with the seemingly flirty vibe he gave that one officer, I wonder if things would have been a bit different if he didn’t.

“You must understand the look of disappointment I had to give my boss when I get a phone call from your _mother_ saying you are in Trost County Jail. Then I find out it is because you assaulted an officer?” Grisha opens his mouth, closes it, and shakes his head. “Have you gone mad?”

“First of all,” I feel annoyance bubbling in my gut at his accusation. How dare he blame this whole situation on me? He knows damn well I didn’t get myself into this position! “ _I_ didn’t do anything. This idiot – “ I point my finger at Levi’s slouching form, “ – decided he wanted to hit an officer! It was not me! I tried to stop him from pulling a fucking gun!”

“Everybody keeps saying I punched him.” Levi’s voice sounds out from the corner of the room. “I did not punch him. I grabbed his neck and tried to throw him to the ground so I could kick him in his face. _There’s a difference._ ”

“Ju – shut up! That’s worse!” I exclaim. Grisha shakes his head for a second.

“Wait, _he_ pulled out a gun.” Grisha points to Levi. Levi rolls his eyes and places his chin on his fist. “Where the hell did you get a gun from?”

“No – not _him_. The officer! Jesus Christ, are you losing sentence context?”

“Do not get smart with me, Eren!”

“I’m not! Can you just please get me out of here before I have to spend another second dealing with this dehumanizing place? It fucking stinks and I have an eyesore as a roommate.” Grisha shakes his head at my words. The keys in his hands jiggle, and I watch as he takes a couple steps to turn around.

“Let’s go.”

I didn’t really expect Levi to follow, but then I remember he is technically a part of the family now, so of course he is going to follow. As we exit the county jail, Grisha fills out some papers and surprisingly doesn’t have to pay any money to bribe. We are left free – as if we didn’t assault two officers in broad daylight. As if we simply forgot to pay a parking ticket for too long. Grisha turns his head to look at me questioningly when they announce we were free to go, and I only shrug in response. The whole situation was suspicious. I at least expected a _heavy_ fee for causing them so much trouble. I dig my hands into my pocket as we walk toward the double doors to the parking lot. Levi follows next to me looking youthfully bright, eyes glimmering and cheeks slightly red. He hums a small tune I don’t recognize, and suddenly the small dog has stopped barking for the time being. I avoid staring at him for too long. But then it all clicks.

They were _definitely_ flirting.

“Where do you live?” My father’s voice booms even outside. Levi averts his eyes to look at my father who had paused in front of my car, which he received luckily before it was placed somewhere else. Grisha presses the button on my car keys and the doors slide open smoothly. We all enter the car with the smell of my rose air freshener flooding our noses. My father glares at me for a second, probably with concern from the girly smell I inhabited instead of something manlier. It takes my father a few moments to comprehend how to work my intricate car, but he eventually gets it started and presses buttons on the car for the GPS.

“It doesn’t work.” I try not to say it loudly. Shit, I get a brand-new car and I already break the GPS. What kind of embarrassing shit is that? _But_ I partly blame it on the fact Wendy’s plastic cups are not stable for driving conditions. My father peers up at me with his fingers pausing and has an evident look of annoyance shown on his face.

“…are you serious? You just got this car, Eren.” Before I can respond, Levi’s puppy begins barking once more. It is free to walk the back seat, and it gets a little too thrilled at the fact it has room to explore. I look at Levi with a certain face that says _‘shut him up’,_ but he only responds with a cheeky eyebrow raise and arms crossing over. I roll my eyes and focus my attention on my father once more.

“It was an accident. I’ll get it fixed tomorrow.” Grisha says nothing after that. He starts up the car, a thick sigh departing from his mouth, and drives out of the police station. The heaviness in my chest seems to lift a bit, and I begin to switch through the radio station for some songs to play. When I can’t find any, my eyes wander around the car for my phone. “Where is my phone?” Grisha ignores me for a second before averting his eyes slightly from the road.

“I don’t know. Did the officers take it away from you?”

“I think so. Fuck, they didn’t give it back to you? I promised Petra I would call her when I was on my way back to work. Wait – what _time i_ s it?” I look at the time on the radio. “Seven!? We’ve been in there for three hours?”

“It took me about an hour to get there by taxi. So, yeah just about.” Grisha responds. I rub the inner corners of my eyes with my index and thumb, a headache already forming from the shit I was going to receive at work tomorrow for not returning. And the _paperwork load_. Oh, fucking _kill m_ e now.

“What is your address?” My father’s voice interrupts my disarrayed thoughts. He casts a look at Levi in the rearview mirror. They have a sort of awkward dynamic – considering he just married Levi’s mother and they have hardly spoken more than three words to each other. Then again, it might be best that way, because I doubt my father is ready to experience the train wreck that is _Levi_. If so, I highly doubt he’d be a part of the family anymore. Anything less than perfect is not Grisha’s motto.

“Just drop me off at Trost Avenue. My apartment is on the Main Street.” In my head – it clicked because I knew where he lived, and the Main Street happened to be the place where he and I got into a public argument near that one club. Yeah, kind of hard to forget that day. Oh, and it was the day of the wedding. How could I forget?

However, in my father’s head – he probably knew nothing about Trost or Main Street. It was the _down_ part of the city. The place you go to find sketchy strip clubs, but also the best places to get a drink. Or the places where you can mistake a hot college chick for a prostitute. Or in general – the place where the crazy, poor, and weirdoes roam. Kind of fits Levi’s personality now that I think about it.

“I’ll tell you the way.” I murmur to my father. He nods, but Levi somehow heard us, because he couldn’t help the smart comment that made its way out of his mouth.

“Like that worked out the first time.”

“ _God,_ I cannot wait to drop you off.”

“I can’t wait for you get a fucking haircut.”

“I don’t need a fucking haircut.” I turn in my seat to glare at the small male in the back seat of my car. My car – I repeat! “You need fucking psychiatric help, you weirdo!”

“And you need braces.”

“Th – what?” I feel a little self-conscious, I’m not gonna lie, but I avoid flipping out and looking in the mirror at my teeth. I mean, I know they are _kind_ of big, but I pay a lot of money for retainers and whitening kits so I’ll be damned if he makes fun of what money makes of me. “So, you just love low blows, huh?”

“What is there for me to _low blow_?” He eyes down my figure and cocks his head sassily. It takes me a few moments to finally comprehend what he is talking about, but when it hits me, I feel a rain of betrayal when I hear my father snort and cough as if he didn’t. I look over at him, jaw slightly dropped, and scrunch up face up as I shake my head.

“Did you just laugh?”

“Eren, let’s not start this right now, son. It’s harmless bickering. I mean, in actuality, it makes me sort of happy.” His eyes connect with mine, and in his brown irises, I see a glow of joy building up. He chuckles heavily with his cheeks turning red. He shakes his head slightly, licks his lips, and lets a smile tug on his face when he averts his eyes back to the road. “It’s like you guys are siblings already!”

_It’s like you guys are siblings already!_

I am an almost twenty-nine-year-old _man_ with a job that requires me to work almost every single day of the year. I have to deal with running my office and also training students. Aside from work, I maintain a stable life by paying bills for me and my mother, while also trying to adhere to my mother’s needs when possible. I am also single, have been for a couple of months, and I have not been laid once in these months. I spotted one gray hair a week ago, and I can already feel my body straining from all the work I do and the inconsistency with keeping my body healthy. I don’t have time for myself anymore, and all the time I ever do get, I end up always giving it to someone else.

In no way, shape, or form – do I need a sibling. I do not need a twenty-four, alcoholic, party-fanatic, uneducated, poor, and annoying male as a sibling in this point of my life. I will never see Levi as a sibling. Ever. He is just a result of a marriage that I do not want or to be a part of. He is a stranger in my busy world. He is, essentially, useless in my life. He is a _kid_. He is nothing.

But who am I to complain? It’s not like my opinion ever really matters. Never did, never will.

“I’ll see you soon, Levi!” Grisha yells out the window across from me at Levi as he walks to his apartment. Levi waves his hand at my father and continues to walk up the steps to the complex. I try not to shake my head and let my thoughts compel me any longer. Grisha rolls up my window and starts up the car once more. I don’t want to make conversation with him, so I don’t even try to speak to him the rest of the ride. Only twenty minutes in the ride home does he try to spark conversation.

“What is wrong with you? You’ve become quiet.” I pucker my lips up. I want to tell him everything. I want to talk to him like I use to as a kid – open and not afraid of his opinion. Seeing him as my _dad,_ not just Grisha. A person who would make me feel like I wasn’t the only one in the world. I want to talk to him like I should be able to at my age. But, I can’t find the urge to do it. It’s as if the barrier he has built has become proof of me – as cliché as that sounds.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

* * *

 

Eddy doesn’t like my apartment that much.

He keeps whining and his coat feels cold. I ask my neighbor if they have a heater, and I borrow one without the intent of giving it back. I plug it up, make a small spot for Eddy to sleep right next to it with pillows and all, and lay down on my torn couch.

The television is static-y again. And the whole apartment smells like dewy rain and wet trash. I remind myself to buy some more air refreshers the next time I go out to the dollar store.

Eddy starts to calm down, the heat probably giving him comfort. I watch him in admiration and let a small smirk draw itself on my face. I had given him my cover, so I stick with covering my shivering feet with a dish towel and a pillow cover. I watch the television, admiring the tiny black and white dots appearing on the screen. It messed with my vision after a few seconds.

I eventually end up pulling out an iPhone 8 and trying to figure out how it works. I’ve never really had a phone before, so it’s kind of new to me. I’m shocked to find out the password on the first try, which is ‘ _1234_ ’, and I begin to scroll through the phone tediously. I first start with the pictures, because if I can find some juicy blackmail that would be perfect, but it’s unfortunate that the gallery is only full of screenshots. I pick [one.](https://me.me/i/light-speedsound-sextronautt-how-can-lawyers-argue-without-crying-i-2603777) It takes me a few moments before my throat constricts, and I am letting out tiny chuckles of laughter.

After scrolling through about twenty [more](https://en.dopl3r.com/memes/dank/when-your-boss-calls-a-last-minute-friday-meeting-and-you-jumped-the-gun-on-your-edible/113327), laughing, and realizing he had over able five hundred screenshots, I exit out and travel to another album.

One is full of pictures of cars, furniture, etc. Others are full of ‘work’ documents. Soon enough, I see an album full of women in provocative poses, and I click off it complete disgust. I _hate_ men.

He doesn’t have any social media apps, so I set for traveling through his music. I eventually start playing random songs out loud. I’m glad it breaks the silence a bit. I skip more and more until it lands on a more softer song. But hell, who knew he would be into hip hop? I rub my nose when I hear the soft tone of a song I actually liked.

“ _My eyes are[green,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EnO9erUo2M)”_ The voice is light, hypnotizing, and I feel my mind easing at the gorgeous tone of voice. I lean against the couch and place the phone on the arm. I close my eyes and try to let the breeze of the heater and the tone of the music help me go to sleep. _“- ‘cuz I eat a lot of vegetables. It don’t have nothing to do with your new friend.”_

My body gets hot, and I can feel sweat running down my temples. I can feel pressure on my thighs and slight whining, but I base it on the music playing in the background. It smells like the barbeques my mom use to do when I was younger. I don’t want to wake up. I can remember the chicken she use to make, and how I would get so messy that she wouldn’t even let me have a shirt on the day of. Sometimes we would end up spraying each other with the water hose so we can get the sticky, hickory-smelling sauce off our bodies.

It’s like I can _really_ smell it. It’s like I’m really there.

_“La-di-da, dum-dee-da-da, dum-didi-da-di-da-di-da, dum-didi-da-di-dum-di,”_

* * *

_“My father doesn’t like you, you know?” She said it in the tone of voice that was full of shrewdness. Her silky locks now a bright, natural blonde. She puckers her perfect lips and cocks her elegant hip at the male in front of her. The male shrugs his sagging shoulders and only retorts with a complicated reply._

_“What else is new?” He awkwardly shifts on his broken down gray sneakers and places his hands into his pockets. “I miss your red hair. It was pretty on you.” Her face mirrors something similar to displeasure, content, and irritation. She gapes at her appearance in the mirror behind the male, fixing her posture and flicking her hair behind her shoulder, and takes a few steps forward with a new-found confidence._

_“My mother made me change it back.” She voices. The male’s lips scrunch to one side, and he looks down to the ground to avoid staring at her cerulean pupils. He fiddles with his fingers together and shuffles once more on his feet. “But it **was** quite different.”_

_“Yeah…” He lingers on the word for too long. He then begins to shake his head drastically. “It was brave of you.” She looks at him as if he is crazy. She chuckles and rolls her eyes before beginning to walk out of the store._

_“You are silly. It was just hair color.”_

_“But – yes! But I know it must be hard to be different.” He wants to touch her. To grab her and hold her back. He wants to embrace her. “It must be very hard.” She stops in her exit to peer at his panicking figure. She wants to leave. That is the only idea in her mind. Gold, diamonds, silver – do not hold up the same definition as fake bronze. She shakes her head at him and places her delicate hand on the glass door of the store._

_“How is it hard to be me? I do not need to be different, sir, I stand out on my own! Now leave me alone!”_

_And that is what she thought._

“Eren! Eren! Oh my god, Eren!”

 I snap out of the daze of writing and look over at the door to my room. I wait for it to burst open to show the panicked voice that matched my mother. I lay comfortably on my new California king sized bed, the silk brown sheets popping against my tan skin, and cloud-like pillows making love to my sore back. My laptop sat on my thighs and played a soft tune as I wrote in peace. I quickly save the document and pull out a PowerPoint I was working on for the interns. Coughing, I act as if I wasn’t just indulging the best moments of my day.

My mother comes bursting through the door, gray sports bra, and pink panties the only things covering her up, and eyes heavy with bags and eye boogers. Her hair is flared up crazily and sticks out in all corners. I sigh at her appearance, and I am glad the lights in my room are all off so I didn’t have to see much of her half-naked figure.

“Your father just called me and said there was a fire. I don’t know where, and I don’t know how, but he needs to speak to you.” She throws the phone at me as if she wasn’t capable of just handing it to me. I place my laptop to the side and place the phone on my right ear quickly.

“Hello?”

“ – Hello? Jesus Christ, Eren, it’s like your mother can’t listen for once second! If she would have just listened and not ran into your room at three in the morning, then this wouldn’t have –“

“What fire?” – I interrupt his rant. The last thing I need to hear from him is his judgments on my mother. That is also the last thing he wants to say to an obvious momma’s boy. “What is happening?”

“Well…” Grisha pauses for a second before continuing his reluctant explanation. “I have a certain sibling of yours in my car. Their apartment caught on fire tonig – “

“Who? Mikasa?” I jump out of the bed quickly, and my mom’s face is just as concerned as she has a stance ready to run and get dressed as quick as possible. I look at her for a brief second and grab my jeans on the side of my bed. She takes it as a cue to go put her clothes on and dashes out of my room. I put my pants on my left ankle before continuing. “How? I swear to god if that horse looking asshole has to do with this I’m going to fucking –“

“What? No, Eren – this is not Mikasa! She is fine! And she has her own house, not an apartment.” My eye’s scrunch up at the announcement. I stop putting on my jeans and hang my legs stupidly off the bed.

“Then who are you talking about?”

“Levi, Eren. _Levi_.”

Oh _, hell no_.

“Dad…”

“Listen, I just picked him up a few hours ago after it happened. His apartment got caught on fire from an old heater. The whole place evacuated, and he is homeless at this point.” My father pauses before continuing. “Now, I know you are not going to like the sound of this, but you know I live with Kutchel, and they do not have a good relationship. So –“

“You want me to let him spend the night.” I knew. I just knew. Silence. “In my house. _My house_.” At this point, my mother makes her way back to my room with some tacky leggings on and a white t-shirt. She is putting her hair up in a bun when she mouths to me ‘what is happening?’ I ignore it and rub my forehead.

“…yes,” Grisha announces. “But just for this night. He says he has a relative he can stay with, but they aren’t answering. So maybe until he can contact them?” I don’t answer for a few seconds. “If he steals anything, I will deal with it – I promise. I just –“

“That’s not an issue, dad.” Even though it is a valid concern. “Just… _fine_. Only for one night though. We already don’t get along.” My father breathes out a sigh of relief, and I can’t help but think about all the stuff I do for this man.

“By the way, you know he is the one that stole your phone? You won’t believe the shock I felt when I answered your contact and all I hear is fire alarms and a calm voice!” He lets out a hefty laugh that lingers for seconds. I roll my eyes and rub my cheeks.

“Wow, so he _is_ a thief.”

“Not a real one, anyway. It’s just sibling love. I’ll be dropping him off in a few minutes, okay?” 

I scratch my stubble and sigh.

“Yep. That’s fine. Bye.” I hang up the phone and hand it over to my mother. She stands there lost. She shakes her head at me when I don’t respond with a story to tell her about.

“What happened?” I lean back onto the bed and groan loudly. The covers flood over my cheeks and the music playing from my laptop floods my ears.

“Some bullshit.”

* * *

 

"Have you ever been to Goodies?”

I blink a few times to comprehend whether he was speaking to me. My eyes water slightly, obviously still suffering from the everlasting smoke that I suffered through in my apartment complex. I peer up from looking down at the whining Eddy in my arms and gaze at Grisha Jaeger in all his glory. Long, silky, brown hair. Honey golden eyes. Sharp, black glasses. Expensive, rich attire. Everything that is alike and similar to his infuriating son.

“No.” – I answer so quick I almost doubt he hears it. Grisha takes his hand off the wheel of the car and digs into the glove compartment. His car is vastly different from his sons – much sleeker and sophisticated. It looks as if he bought it with the intention of spending his money on what he deserves, and not what he thinks looks the best to the public eye. The interior is much more appealing to the eye as well. The smell of ocean breeze and the soft blow of cool air from the air conditioner makes my opinion of the male be in higher regard.

“It’s a diner. I use to take Eren there all the time when he was little.” He eventually pulls out a cigarette and rolls down the window. He takes a lighter out of his pen pocket and lights the stick. “I figure that would calm your nerves a bit? I mean, I doubt breakfast at three in the morning is ideal, but it will get your mind off some things.”

The only thing valuable I had in that apartment was Eddy, and as long as I had him, I figure life wouldn’t be that bad without the apartment. That was my first thought when I noticed the scorching fire happening. I was hanging off the couch, dreaming of barbeques and my mother’s voice, when Eddy started barking. Even at his young age, he could see danger when apparent. But he is obviously not as young as I thought he was. I'm glad he is okay. 

The fire luckily caught onto the couch after I jumped up and ran across the room. My fire alarm was broken, so I had to run to each apartment door and tell them to evacuate. I still wasn’t aware what caused the fire, but now that I realize it was the heater my neighbor had given me, I’m lucky I didn’t know. She probably would have gotten cursed out with my temperamental ass.

“Are you paying?” I say with an accidental sassy tone in my voice. Grisha lets out a belch of laughter and blows out the smoke from his nose. He taps the ashes into the ashtray next to him and nods his head in an agreeing manner.

“Of course, of course. What type of step-father would I be?”

“You really think that?” I can’t help my blunt words. It’s a natural trait. “ – that you’re my father? You do realize we are strangers, right?” I ramble. “I just found out your first name.”

“Well,” Grisha doesn’t seem as shocked as I hoped to be from my words. He shrugs his shoulders and continues smoking. “I can only dream of having kids with the woman I love.”

“Wow.” I chuckle in remembrance of Carla Jaeger. “That was an asshole comment.”

“No! Not like that…” Grisha sighs and leans backward in the driver’s seat. He shakes his head frustratingly. “I loved Carla, I did. But some people aren’t meant to be together, you know?” He looks at me as if I'm supposed to _know_. “Some people…bring out the _worst_ in each other.”

“I love Carla for what she gave me: two beautiful kids. But otherwise, she…has been a very complex part of my life.” He taps his fingers on his thigh. “There wasn’t much to be done about us.” He rubs his nose and smokes the cigarette once more. He breathes it in like it is a cure for something unknown, but deadly. I roll down my window slightly and squint my eyes from all of the shining red and blue lights outside. A few moments of silence pass by us. I decided to speak after fully developing my opinion on my new step-father.

“I hope I don’t ever think like you when I get older,” I said it as if I was just a sixteen-year-old speaking to some unfortunate higher up. But I’m not. I’m twenty-four, still trying to figure how the hell I’m going to spend the rest of my life. I’m twenty-four with hidden passions that I don’t even know about and a bare minimum high school degree. I’m twenty-four with no job, no car, no life, and no one. Who am I to judge someone of higher affluence? Who am I to judge, when I find my only comfort in the labels of alcohol, drugs, and men? Who am I to judge a man who found love in the place I never did?

But, as Grisha Jaeger portrays himself as holding power in the palm of his hands, it is fortunate that he is at least a bit humble enough to not reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodies is based on 'Goody Goody' - a real diner located where I live: Saint Louis. Their chicken and waffles....mhm. And the owner always speaks to guest in rhyme. It's the best place ever.


	6. Lemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren is sick of his family, and we see more of Levi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we have a new motif: the dreaded lemons.

I’ve never been to a diner before. Though my mother and I already didn’t have the socially perfect household without a father present, she always made breakfast for me. She would make me scrambled eggs because I hate runny eggs and two pancakes. I didn’t like how greasy bacon was, so we never had meat. That was probably when I became a closeted vegetarian, but I guess becoming poor and homeless eventually got rid of that characteristic.

We tried to be organic too, so I would squeeze oranges the night before in an old milk container for drinks. We didn’t like apple juice. And we didn’t have tea, because she liked it with lemons, and I _hated lemons._ And somedays we despised pancake syrup, so we would replace it with ice cream. On some occasions when we wanted something different, we would make omelets and hash browns. I remember smashing the frozen hash browns into an oval to imitate McDonald's’, but it ended up falling apart anyway. It didn’t matter though. It still tasted just as good.

So, in retrospect, I had no idea how to react about attending a diner. I’m very picky about my food, and the only person in my life who could ever make me the best eggs was my mother. Even I can’t match up. But I’m not the best cook anyways.

“Table for two? An older, familiar male and a new short one stuck together like glue! Let me lead you to the back with the blue and have our good-lookin cooks cook y’all up the best food!” – a short, chubby, old, caramel-skinned male sings to us as we stand in line. Grisha smiles, chuckles, and thanks to the owner with a handshake and tip from his pocket. The owner winks at Grisha and grabs two menus for us. Before he can lead the way, Grisha stops him for a moment.

“Actually – can we get a table for four? I expect guests.”

“Table for four? Well sure! Don’t have to tell me twice, I’ll lead them when they walk through the door. Now, what are we waitin’ for?” He gives a smile bigger than any grin I’ve ever seen. He grabs two more menus and urges us to follow him through the old-school, yet expensive looking diner.

Thus, we walk through the diner floors toward the back. I notice some people look at Grisha as if he is royalty, and others glare as if he wasn’t, and others greet him as if he were an old business friend. The owner seats us in a perfectly white-clothed table, silverware placed delicately and all, that is purposely pushed away from common guest. It is right in front of the jukebox, which plays soft relaxing tunes, and an out-of-place small bar.

“This place has a bar?” I whisper under my breath. Minutes pass by before Grisha peers at me and nods his head in response. He looks up at me for a second when I grab a menu from the bar counter. He raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ve had a long day.” – I murmur under my breath. But who was he to ask questions? I live my life how I wanted.

And that wasn’t a lie anyway.

“ _Summertime and the livin' is easy_ ,” It was ironic that the song from the jukebox had a sort of mischievous tone to it, and my eyes are wandering down the menu of my guilty pleasure. I give an inner chuckle and search for the most intoxicating drink on the list. Grisha opts to look at the breakfast menu instead, wondering what his expensive meal would be. “ _Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'. So, hush little baby, don't you cry,_ ”

Wish that dumbass son of his was here to hear this song. Maybe he’d learn something for once.

“Wait...“ I pause in my thought and look up from the menu. The thought of his troublesome son made me think of a question I didn’t know the answer to. Grisha looks up at me at my sudden voice. “Who are the other guests?”

* * *

 

My father left me and Mikasa for New York when we were about five years old. He didn’t leave a note or any cheesy shit like that, he just told my mother, with his twenty-year-old youth turning gray in his eyes, during a stressful day of taking care of us rambunctious kids that he _“couldn’t do it anymore.”_ My mother claims that she didn’t complain, and only told him to leave with all of his “stupid shit.” But I could tell by the way she told the story that she put up much of a bigger fight than that. He was our father of course. She wanted a proper family just as much as I did.

My mother had us when she was thirteen. The ripe age of becoming a teenager, but a child nonetheless. She acted on the immature decision of having sex as a way to propel against her parents – something I can see my mother doing once more to this day. And it had worked, because my grandparents were exceedingly disappointed in her and didn’t talk to her for months. My mother told me that was the only thing that made her regret my birth. She had no emotional support during the nine mouths other than Grisha, who was a typical, sexually frustrated, and emotionally unavailable teenage boy at the tender age of fifteen. She tells me she only wishes her parents were more understanding – and possibly that she never got pregnant. Though it’s ironic that she claims she doesn’t regret _us_ because there doesn’t come a day where she doesn’t scream that she wishes _I_ were never born. Maybe _Mikasa_ would have been good enough. But that is a different issue.

However, though my father had left our household when he turned twenty for college and other stupid excuses, destroying our nuclear family dynamic that I had always wished for, he visited us every month. He would sometimes bring presents or takes us out to dinner. He loved taking me to _Goodies_ , an old-school diner located in far New York, because I enjoyed the family-orientated atmosphere. He would order me ice-cream pancakes and apple juice. He didn’t take Mikasa, because Mikasa hated the long drive to essentially _New York_ for just some pancakes. I didn’t mind though, because it meant I got to spend more time with him. That was all I wanted. I loved him so much. He was like a Christmas present I got every month, showing up with love and affection I hardly got from my mother.

Instead of Goodies, he would take Mikasa to amusement parks. I would tag along either way, so I would get double the fun. He was like our Santa Claus. Our Easter Bunny. Our _everything_ and then some.

He stopped showing up when Mikasa and I were thirteen. He hardly sent us cutesy mail anymore, ones that sing and all, and months had passed before we saw him again. He soon became the real Santa Claus and Easter Bunny – only showing up once a year. It was a hard adjustment, but soon enough it wasn’t so hard because eventually, he just didn’t show up anymore. He was gone. And though Mikasa wasn’t as affected considering she was mostly close to my mother, I was heart-broken. And it didn’t help when I went to my mother for comfort, she would shake her head, red lips puckering up as she whispered – “I _told_ you so.”

Eighteen hit me quick, and Mikasa moved out to live with Jean as fast as I could say goodbye. I hadn’t heard from him since then, and I planned to attend a close college for an associates degree in some dumb shit. It didn’t matter. Just something to pass time. Something to keep my mind off things. That was all I wanted.

Then he called. Deep, cocky, caring, passionate, baritone voice and all. He voiced on the static, assertively, and his words echoed my ears at that tender age. “Eren? I have a job in Jersey, can I see you?” – and then some. And I said no, hung up, and never called him again. And I told my mom we were going to move to Illinois instead, because at that time I had two thousand dollars saved and a friend who was moving there said we could stay with them until I found a place, and she agreed because I told her I didn’t want to run into dad.

She hated him as much as me.

College comes and passes like a breeze. I was free. I found ways to pass time. I wrote for the college newspaper, was an advisor, edited the college site, wrote the college site, wrote poems, wrote _stories_ , sold stories, had friends, had fun, and had so many things I didn’t have before. Mom was happy. She found a job. We had become closer, and she filled the hole dad carved into me. She didn’t become my Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. She was my _mom_. A real, normal (somewhat), _present_ mother.

The only time Grisha Jaeger decided he wanted to be a dad was when he saw me in the newspapers of Harvard, my bright smile shining as I shook hands with my political science professor over an achievement he didn’t even care about. I became his son then. God, did I become his son then. A son to talk about, anyway.

He calls me. Tells me he loves me and misses me. Tells me he is sorry and that he found someone he is in love with. He offers to pay for some of my tuition, and I let him. He doesn’t pay all of it, though I think even if he did it wouldn’t fill the gap he left me with. Metaphorically and of course, literally. He wants to meet me, see me, and reconcile a relationship he split apart. We become on and off. Text once a week. Maybe I’ll respond. Maybe I won’t.

Years later, I graduate and he doesn’t show up. I get a job at a law firm in New York as the youngest worker, and he doesn’t call me to congratulate me. But he invites me to his wedding. His god, awful wedding. With his god, awful wife, and her psychotic family.

After all he has done to me, all of the shit he hasn’t done for me, I contemplate why I am seething anger. Heart pounding, lips quivering, eyes flickering, face reddening. Why am I so angry over something so minuscule? It’s a diner, for god's sake. It’s just a diner. He just wants to have a get-together with his old family. The one he left for _good_. He wants to be wife and husband again. He wants to have the kids near him, and he wants to glue something back together that he tore to shreds. He wants to be a little ol’ nuclear family again, even if it is just for an hour and at three in the morning.

Because he wants the best of both worlds, but he needs to know he can only have one.

“No. I’m not going. It’s three in the morning and I just spent four hours getting my nails done. And I hate Goodies!”

Minutes after he calls me telling me about the house fire, I began to tidy up the downstairs for our upcoming guest. My mother followed along and took on cleaning the countertop in her horribly put together outfit. Ironically, however, he sends me a text essentially forcing me and my mother to head to _Goodies_. Goodies.

“Goodies. _Goodies_. Is he fucking crazy? What do I look like heading there?”

“Eren, stop talking to yourself and respond!” My mom throws a wet rag at the back of my neck. I jerk from it and throw it on the floor, glaring at my mother and petulantly rubbing my neck. “Are you going? Say no.”

“No, I’m not going –“

“ – thank god – “

“ – he can shove it with that shit. I will never go to Goodies again because of that bastard. First Dominic’s, now this? Whatever. I’m over it. I hope those rhyming motherfuckers spit in his food.”

My mother doesn’t answer me. My anger is justified – or that’s what I keep telling myself. Who does he think he is? Who does he think he is treating _him_ like that? After hiding in the crowd for ten years, he wants to rekindle with everyone _but me_. Whatever. _Whatever_.

…. we end up considering going. He calls my mother, promising her whatever dollars and change he can. Mom flutters when she hears the call surprisingly. He must have said something over charismatic. She giggles and laughs, her anger deteriorating at whatever he is whispering in her ear. She has a blush on her cheeks, and I want to believe that maybe her lack of sleep is what is making her so out-of-character. When she hangs up, she lets out a deep sigh and peers up at my tall figure leaning over the kitchen counter.

“He said he would really appreciate if we went. It’s only five minutes away, and he has something to tell us.”

“What did he promise you?”

“Nothing, Eren. Jesus Christ, I can’t tell you to listen to your father for once?”

“My _father_.” My face scrunches up and I glare her as if she had insulted me. “My father? Let me reiterate that before this wedding, contact with this man was close to _none_.” Mom rolls her eyes and walks away as if me arguing with her about this is a normal occurrence. And it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her walk away without telling me what he said to her. “What did he say, mom?” I say it a little bit louder. 

“I don’t want to talk to you about this. I’m going to get dressed.”

My next words are less forgiving. “Wow, you get promised one materialistic fucking thing and your ass jumps into his arms again. But _my_ love life is bad.”

“He didn’t offer me a _Michael Kors_ purse, Eren! I agreed because he actually sounded like he wants to tell you something!”

“Tell me what? What could he possibly want to tell me? _What?_ Because I would love to know.”

She turns around from her stomping up the circular staircase. Her face is beet red, and by the look in her eyes, I can tell I’ve hit a nerve in her. “You…” Her words linger. She reminds me of Tinker Bell in the old movies when her face would bubble in anger so much and cheeks would puff out. Steam could come out her ears, and for a moment I’m terrified of if she would hit me or not. But I continue with my rant. I can never get enough of the truth.

“He doesn’t want you back. He is married to a woman who is nothing like you. He is having a dinner with her son. He wants nothing more than to rekindle a family once more, and by doing so he uses his sweet words to pull you into doing what he wants. That’s it. He has done it before with me – “A shiver rolls up my back at the memory.” – and he will do it again.” I avert my eyes from her and push in the chair to the counter to lessen the awkward silence. She crosses her arms after a couple of seconds and looks down at the floor.

“…I’m still going. I don’t care what you say, Eren. Nothing you say will make me change my mind. I _know_ my ex-husband.”

 _‘Oh, you do, do you?’_ That stubbornness is a gene, because I have never met a person more stubborn than my mother other than myself. She gazes at me with complete attitude in her eyes and eventually raises her eyebrows when I continue to glare at her. “He is your ex for a reason.” I try to persuade her more to not go. She shrugs her shoulders and cocks her hip. For a moment, I think in the inner depths of my mind what the _hell_ my father said to make her so determined to go have breakfast at Goodies – a place she has hated since before I was born.

“…and I’m taking the Bentley.”

“Uh, no the fuck you’re not.” She would change the subject by bringing out my weakness. My costly one at that. No one touches my _Bentley. No one._ I haven’t driven it in a month to prevent scratches, so I only use it for special occasions. I _wish_ my mother, one of the most horrible drivers I’ve ever met, would take my previous Barnaby. “You can take your fucked up mini-coupe. I make sure to never drive that piece of shit again since the wedding.”

“No. I’m driving the Bentley.”

“No, you’re not!” God, she knew how to push my buttons. “Take the Tesla!”

“I’m not driving that piece of shit!”

“Piece of shit? That’s a hundred-thousand-dollar car!”

“Yeah, hundred-thousand-dollar car, but the radio is broken and you already scratched up the hood.”

“How about you buy your own car?” I shrug my shoulders and look at her with complete sincerity in my voice. “Along with that, be able to afford your _own_ house and bills. Or maybe actually pay for half of the electricity bills since you love watching television so much? Buy some groceries since you’re at it, and go to your high established _job_ , because complaining about my _luxury_ cars obviously mean you have something better on the _fucking_ _table_.”

Money-talking makes the world either rotate, cease, or go backward. As my mother looks at me with a face of pity, anger, and embarrassment – I thought maybe I had gone a little too far. These were things never spoken about. Things never said out loud. Never announced, because if they were it would make the situation a lot more complicated. It is an issue, though. She is a forty-one-year-old woman who got lucky with never having a proper job by having a rich husband, and soon enough a rich son, and she would be pampered her whole life by men. I tell her - I tell her so many times that she is just like the women I date. She is nothing different.

Hungry for the money, but not hungry enough to deal with me.

“Why would you speak to me like that?” She uncrosses her arms. Her eyebrows are scrunched up, and she puckers her lips in a slight pout. She seems awkward. As if I had called out that her extensions were showing, or that her fake eyelashes were coming off on the edges. As if I shouted the truth like _it wasn't supposed to be the truth._

“I get it from you, I guess.” I end it there. I begin to walk upstairs, passing by her form with a heavy sigh. She doesn’t look me in the eye. She stands there, like a lost puppy, and tilts her head. I walk upstairs with a sense of accomplishment but also regret at talking about the forbidden topic.

As I get upstairs to my room, I take off my light shirt and head to my bed. My laptop still lays on my bed from when I was writing. I place it on the nightstand and lay down on the sheets. I can feel a headache forming, and I place my fingers on my temples to subdue it. I soon enough rub my eyes and sigh slightly when it doesn’t go away. Before I turn off the gleaming lamp near the bed stand to head to sleep, I hear the faint sound of my mother’s bedroom door being closed softly.

* * *

 

“How is it?”

I move the eggs away from the crispy hash browns I was munching on. I stick my fork into the potato and take a bite, wanting to ignore the elder man’s words. I end up answering when he stares at me for too long.

“Fine,” I say though I know he realizes I haven’t taken a bite of the eggs once. He nods his head and takes a smooth bite of his steak. It is cooked to perfection, not a peek of pink coming through. Though I remember when my step-father was in my life, he enjoyed his steaks bleeding onto our plastic plates, and would often mix the liquid with hardly mushed mashed potatoes and soggy green beans. He’d down it all with a cold Corona beer and lemon. _Lemon_ or lime. The memory of it brings a chill up my back.

“Where are you taking me after this?” I voice with an attempt to dilute the memory in my mind. Grisha places his utensils down on the table after my question and grabs a napkin to wipe his hands. From what, I don’t recall. “I can try and call Isabel again. She won’t answer though.”

“That’s fine.” Grisha takes a sip of the cold ice tea near him, a lemon squeezed on top, and licks his lips. “I’ve made arrangements for you to stay somewhere for the night.” He doesn’t continue after that. I want to ask him about it more, but I decide against it. It was bound to be a nice place if he had anything to do with it.

He gets another tea with a few more lemons. I cringe at the thought of the yellow fruit. I finish the last few bites of hash browns and push my plate to the side. I shuffle my hands into my lap and move a long lock of hair out of my face. The drink I got, which was a simple glass of pure Moscato, did nothing but make my stomach rumble in uncomfortable whines. Wine usually doesn’t sit well with me, especially at night. Grisha refused to pay for anything more intense, and all the money I did have saved was under my couch.

I wait until he was done with his meal, and we eventually exit out of Goodies with a decent meal in our bodies. Grisha refrains from speaking to me during the walk to his car. I’m glad because all I can smell on his breath is the faint scent of lemon. I hate it.

His car is a plain, black _Bentley_ that looks as if it gets washed every week. I enjoy getting into it with the soft leather beige seats. Grisha usually sits in it roughly, not really caring about treating it like gold. I’m careful to not touch anything out of place as he starts up the car.

“You are going to be staying with Eren and his mother.” My eyebrows scrunch up, and I almost want to ask why the fuck he thought that was a good idea. But I keep my mouth closed because some being above told me Grisha knew what he was doing. “I know, I know. Eren isn’t very happy about it either. But they have a free guest room and I’m not the selfish type. That is one of the reasons why Kuchel has been staying with me for years.” I almost flinch at the mention of my mother’s name. “– and I would have you stay with me…but – “

“I understand.” I interrupt. I don’t want to hear much more. “Me and my mother don’t get along. It’s reasonable.” Grisha nods his head and begins driving out of Goodies’ parking lot. He taps his finger on the wheel.

“Yeah. About that…” He lingers until his next line of words. “Do you mind me asking why is that? She tells me the same thing, but I am curious seeming as to why it is so easy for her to stay away from you.” He laughs lightly. “Sure, Eren is a piece of work, and _I tried_ to get away from him – but it is hard to do when you have a piece of you out there…” I want to demean him for his choice of words. If Jaeger had heard that, he would have no doubt been unbelievably pissed. Who tries to stay away from their own kid? What kind of messed up bullshit is that?

“I _do_ mind,” I announce emotionlessly. “It is none of your business. Whatever issues we have is just that – our issues. Don’t think because you put your dick in her that she is obligated to tell you her life story.” Grisha’s eyes widen at my blunt choice of words and stop speaking to focus on the road.

Years later and I am still sticking up for this woman. No matter what she has done, I can’t find myself to bad mouth her.

“U-uh. Understandable.” He stutters out. He wipes his hand over his mouth and chuckles after a few seconds. “You sure do talk like her though. I was not expecting that.” I shrug my shoulders and look out the window to see the view of New York on the highway.

“Well, she did raise me.” _‘Barely.’_

“Of course. She did a lovely job raising both you and Isabel.” _‘Ha! What a suck up.’_

I don’t respond. He is obviously a liar. I’m an alcoholic, for Christ sake.

“Anyways, I’ll be staying for an hour there to make sure you get comfortable. I also need to have a talk with Eren.” He pauses. “He is evidently upset considering he didn’t show up. His mother is hard enough to deal with.”

He complains like an annoying bird. I wish he would stop talking.

About ten minutes later, we pull up into a driveway to is completely off-road. The ground turns into an onyx brick, and minutes of driving up a steep hill, I am gifted with the sight that is damn near close to godly.

With the [house](https://ibb.co/etqJqy) Jaeger is living in, I don’t want to fucking hear an ounce of complaining anymore from him.

The ulterior of the fucking mansion is a pristine white with a mix of yellow-toned nightlights. Large cone-shaped trees stood at the front door, towering over the entire house like guards. He has a fountain, a fucking fountain, in his driveway. I don’t want to hear shit from him when I walk through this door. He better be asleep, because I just have the urge to beat the shit out of him for being so wealthy.

And I know it’s not just him. I know typical lawyers can’t make this type of money come out their ass. Grisha, a well-known popular surgeon, probably chipped in a few donations along with the rest of his buddies. This makes me a bit happy, and I think of getting back on his good side. I could use a coin bank like him.

“I can see you like it.” Grisha laughs out loud at my expression. I turn my head, and as I do I realize my mouth is hanging open and my eyes are widened. I revert them back to normal and watch as Grisha parks the car right in the roundabout section of the property. He unbuckles his seatbelt and unlocks the car. “It’s a gorgeous house. I’m glad he bought it. It matches him so well.” He exits the car. I follow, still a little bit wonky after witnessing such a beautiful sight and follow him to the front door.

He knocks at first. We stand there for a few seconds before he knocks once more. Then he sighs and brings up a pale finger to ring the doorbell, and suddenly the heavy chocolate brown doors pull open.

“Carla…what are you wearing?”

Carla Jaeger stands there, in a deep burgundy babydoll, lace bra, underwear, and hair messily curled around her shoulders. She smiles and leans her whole arms onto the side of the door. She completely ignores my presence and flips her hair off her shoulders. “What do you mean?” She sultry voices. She turns around and flares her other arm to welcome us in. “I was just heading to sleep! Welcome…wait...what is your name?”

“Johnson,” I announce in a completely sarcastic tone. I enter the house pass her and awe at the surroundings.

“Johnson! Welcome, darling– but Grisha…” Her voice fades out by the soft music playing in the background. I roll my eyes and slowly walk my first few steps into the seemingly-like manor. I admire the ivory, porcelain-like floors and another expensive décor that made up the enormous house. I gaze up and squint my eyes at the glowing chandler hanging over my head. A [spiral](https://ibb.co/njPpxd) of steps is to my right, along with an entryway to another part of the house and the same on the left. I opt to walk through the left entrance area and view what I would consider the living room.

For a [living room](https://ibb.co/cNZ6cd), it looks unexpectedly…dead. There is no television, as a living room should have, and the furniture lacks in comparison to the rest of the house’s décor. The windows show windy green trees scratching against the glass, blocking from the view of the backyard. The couches look brand new, and a sheer black piano in the corner of the room has a clear layer of dust on it. I roll my eyes and blame it on rich people having too many things they can handle.

I walk backward away from the left side of the house and wander to the right side. Carla and Grisha still stood at the front door speaking. Carla leans against the black railing of the spiral staircase and chuckles. I’m surprised they don’t notice me walking back and forth, being snoopy as usual.

The left side of the house is much more home-like. The [kitchen](https://ibb.co/fykCHd) is in it, along with a [guest](https://ibb.co/eJBf3J) area and a mini [counter](https://ibb.co/i35ZVy) with expensive looking stools in the far corner (probably used for drinking or setting meals). They obviously had a clear separation of the cooking area and eating area. The kitchen and mini-eating area are separate from the guest area by two simple steps heading down.  The whole aura of the guest room seems more family orientated than the real living room. The television is playing a football game and a bowl of chips is set on the wooden table. I nod my head at the view and run my hands on the hard marble of the kitchen counter.

I begin to head down the small two steps that head down to the guest room and head for an entrance way with a slight corridor. I walk down it slowly. Small paintings are on the wall, some of Carla from when she was younger, and others of Jaeger’s baby pictures. I don’t bother to look for long considering I really don’t give a shit about either of them.

Eventually, I head into what I would consider the [dining room](https://ibb.co/ndEuVy). The entire vibe is different. That is probably why they placed a dramatic ass corridor before showing it. It holds a small rectangular couch in the corner, and in the middle of the room is a simple circular onyx table with about six chairs surrounding it. The chandelier above is completely extra, but it brightens up the room with a sort of sensual hue. I get a small notion that this may the area where Jaeger probably brings his late-night flings.

Soon enough after lurking through the dining room and contemplating stealing some valuable artifacts placed on display, I decided to head back to the front door before I got lost. Heading back is nearly an easy adventure considering all I can hear is Carla’s loud ass mouth. When I view them once more, Grisha looks at me with a face of “thank god”, but also “goddamnit.” I don’t try to understand his viewpoint at all.

“Levi! Have you looked around the house a bit? I won’t mind taking you upstairs if you would like…” He gives a soft smile and points to the spiral staircase Carla was leaning on. Speaking of her, she looks back to normal. Angry-looking. It’s an appreciative look. I prefer it more than the money-hungry and lust-driven gazes she gave to a married man. A _newly_ married man. But who am I to judge?

“No. It’s fine. I’d rather go to sleep.” I announce sternly. Grisha nods his head and turns his eyes toward Carla once more.

“Where is he going to sleep? Eren is asleep…so I should be heading home. I wanted to talk to him for a brief moment.” His voice holds the tiniest bit of concern.

“Talk to him? You should have heard the lip he gave me about heading to the diner.” Carla scoffs and crosses her arms. “You must have really pissed him off for him to act that way. I almost wanted to go back to the old days –“ She interludes a soft laugh, “ – grab a belt and whoop his ass!” She pushes a brown lock of her hair out of her face and changes the tone of the conversation after witnessing Grisha’s crestfallen face. “He is just having one of his moods. Give him some hours and come back tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be more open then.”

The atmosphere turns into something more mysterious. Like there is an obvious elephant in the room, but no one wants to look at it.

“Well, alright. I’ll head out now, then.” He nods his head at me and gives Carla a brief hug. I see her face as she clutches him back, her eyebrows scrunching up as if she is in pain. I avert my eyes when she opens hers and try not to focus on her glare at my figure. Grisha frees himself from her tight hold and eventually heads out of the thick double doors to his glowing Bentley. I wait for the doors to close, adjust my heavy hoodie over my waist, and turn my eyes toward Carla when it becomes just us.

She sighs. Her mood is completely different. “Follow me.” And I do. She leads me down a staircase. It seems like the basement, but when I witness a large variety of lights from the corner of my eye, I’m wondering if maybe it was just another floor. Carla presses a button to the area and the lights flicker on.

Oh, _Jesus fucking Christ. I wish I had money_.

The basement is the epitome of a homemade [pub bar](https://ibb.co/iHwf3J). A bar stood on the right of the room, wine cellar closed up with a thick lock, and leather green-tinted chairs crispy clean and pushed in. Thick pillars supported the basement and were attached to the shining ceiling that held small lights. A sleek pool table, an ancient jukebox, a couple of black leather chairs, a comfy-looking couch, and so much more decorated the room. Carla sighs once more, as if this is a nuisance, and points to the room to describe where we were at.

“This is technically the basement, but Eren uses it for business purposes. Whenever the firm is dealing with stress, he usually invites his co-workers to his fancy basement.” Carla chuckles. “- like that isn’t creepy enough. Anyways, all of the alcohol is locked and put away –“ She glares at me when she says it. I want to roll my eyes. “ – and I would prefer if you would not go snooping around down here. This is like Eren’s personal play bin and if you go around messing shit up he’ll be yapping me and Grisha’s ears off for weeks.” She puckers her lips and looks around the room. She points over to an [L-shaped couch](https://ibb.co/fANgAy) in the corner of the basement that is separated from the bar. “You can sleep over there.”

The couch looks comfy enough and has enough pillows and covers to build a mile-long fort. I nod my head and walk over there. Carla watches me for a few seconds. “Make a few phone calls before you go to sleep about where you’ll be staying tomorrow. We are only a free charity for long.” I can imagine the hate this woman has for me right now. There is no reason to hate me generally, but it’s easier to do that than anything else. She oddly reminds me of my mother.

Well, my mother _now_ anyways.

She leaves and doesn’t turn off the light. I don’t mind. I prefer the light anyways. I sit on the couch and begin taking my shoes off. It’s a bit cold, so I opt to keep my hoodie and pants on. I crawl over onto the middle of the couch and pull the thick covers from under my body. I lay them over me and place my head on the pillows. I sink in, the pillows crowding over my vision and causing my hair to tickle my nose. My heart flutters at the feeling. I feel so soft. I feel good. It feels comfy. I like it. A lot.

My eyes get heavy immediately. I shake my head a bit, and under the thick covers I reach down into my pocket and pull out Jaeger’s iPhone. His father forgot to grab it from me, and I figure until he remembers, it’ll be mine for now. I lick my lips and dial a familiar number once more. It rings. And rings, and rings.

_“Hello, this is Isabel Magnolia! I am not available right now but leave a voicemail and I’ll get back to you as soon as  –“_

I click off. I place the phone on my chest and stare at the ceiling above me. I decided to enjoy the silence and peace for a while longer. It’ll end soon like it usually does. I scratch my cheek and turn onto my side. Grabbing a fluffy pillow that fell on the floor, I cuddle it and hug it. The last time I fell asleep, I was listening to that dumb song about green eyes and I smelled my mother’s barbeque. It all ended with a fire starting because of a stupid ass heater.

This time, as I fall asleep, all I can smell and taste are lemons.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Eren has been living in a mansion this whole time. Aha. But I kind of just collided a bunch of pictures of rooms that I liked to describe Eren's house. You can honestly imagine it how you want, it's not that important. Use your imagination. The only room description I find important is Eren's room and the pub bar - but that's it. Be free.


	7. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In latest news: Eren stills hates Levi. Why? Who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo I'm sorry but I have so much fun writing Levi sometimes. He is a joy in disguise. But anyway, you guys know this story has a slow build? It's great because I can really get into Eren and Levi's lives the way I want. I've always disliked stories that throw in a backstory and call it a day. I mean - how are these characters who they are then? What has made them who they are? Where do these characteristics come from? So many questions - and developing a story to answer them all in the most paced way is enjoyable to me. Maybe painful to you guys though.

“I made breakfast.”

It’s eight in the morning, and I’m wearing a dark [viridian ](http://www.asos.com/asos-slim-fit-suit-in-dark-green-pindot/grp/7597)business attire suit that my father bought me a long time ago. My hair is left untamed and swinging between my eyes. I smell of expensive Tom Ford cologne, and it mixes oddly with the aroma of bacon in the kitchen. I walk slowly into the room after my mother’s words and ponder over the plates decorating the counter. She peeks at me slightly before turning off the stove. Her mittens come off, and she points to the platters of food.

“It’s biscuits, bacon, eggs, waffles, oatmeal, hash browns, sausages, croissants, and some pastries delivered.” She pushes some glass plates toward me and averts her eyes when I look up at her. It’s like she wants to make it awkward. “ – and apple juice.” I nod my head at her words and casually fix my suit collar. I grab a plate and look at the feast before me.

“You sure some of this isn’t delivered?” I have a hard time believing she cooked all of this. This is mom – one of the most impatient cooks I know. I chuckle slightly when she rolls her eyes.

“ _Okay_ , well I had some delivered from the nearby diner…but I did the biscuits! It’s not as hard as I thought.” I shake my head in understanding and laugh slightly to ease the tension between us. It isn’t that hard considering we both don’t hold grudges much, but I can’t help to feel slight guilt gnawing at me for what I said to her.

“About yesterday…” I begin. Mom stiffens and begins tapping her nails against the counter. “Sorry for bringing up the situation. I didn’t mean to get that angry.” I voice softly. I place a waffle on my plate as I speak and move on to the bacon. “I was just upset about the Goodies thing and it was wrong for me to take that out on you. Anything you and dad have going on is none of my business –“ Lies. “ – and I should respect that. I’m sorry.”

 _God_ , what an adult I’m being today.

Mom stands there on one foot with the other tickling her ankle. She bites her lip and grabs her own plate. She piles on food, doing just as me so it wasn’t so awkward to look at each other. “I would never hide anything from you, Eren, you know that.” Do I? “Nothing is between me and your father. That phone call was nothing but me being silly. Besides, I would _never_ hit on a married man.” I want to chuckle and maybe burst out laughing because I know her more than she knows herself. I know for a fact she would if it meant dad could be hers again. I’m not stupid.

But I say – “Okay,” – because for once, I want to have a nice breakfast. Outside is beautiful, and I woke up to birds chirping. I took my shower at the perfect temperature, and my suit fits soothingly today. I took some pain medicine so I should have a great day at work without getting a headache. And I don’t have to worry about lunch, because I’m having such a big breakfast, and I can head to the gym later to lay off some steam. Life is good. Life is –

“Good morning.” My forehead scrunches up at the unfamiliar voice. I lift my head from pouring myself some apple juice, and I almost drop it at the unfortunate sight before me. Levi stands before me, eyes hooded and gazing at me with tired irises. His hair is stuck up in all directions, and there is a slight red lining imprint on his left cheek. His lips are dry and cracked. He has on a dirty hoodie, evident old stains that would never come out no matter the wash, and saggy grey sweatpants, He crosses his arms as he looks at me with an evident attitude. He struts up to the counter without notice of my shock and looks over the food on the counter.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” I can’t help but be annoyed that he actually came to stay at my house. And here I thought maybe he decided to stay with dad by how they were _kumbaya-ing all fucking night._

There goes my morning.

“Didn’t Grisha tell you?” Mom looks at me like I’m crazy. She soon enough shakes her head and places her hand on her forehead. “He didn’t fucking tell you?”

“No, I know…” I interrupt my mother’s rambling with an irritated tone of voice. “I just didn’t expect him to actually come.”

“Do you guys have hash browns?” Levi walks up to us like it is his house. He overlooks the counter and spots the potato. “Oh! I see it.” I want to kick him out already. I refrain from speaking however and grab my finished plate and head to the guest room a few feet away. I patter down the two steps and make my way to the large L-shaped couch situated in front of the television. It plays the news as usual, and mom follows me afterward to the couch. We sit in silence with nothing but the sound of our mouths eating our desired food. Levi eventually joins us with a small plate of hash browns drowned in ketchup. He moves his fork around the plate and innocently resides his vision onto the television.

I try not to glare at him. I try not to. For some reason, he seems so…comfortable. I don’t know why, but that makes me uncomfortable. Who comes into a stranger’s house comfortable? I stab some of the waffles on my plate and mush it in my mouth.

_“Today’s weather is a high ninety-eight with the humidity taking a toll on us in the early morning. The weekly weather is just the same with rising temperatures. Traffic is running a bit slow on the high ways, with about a twenty-minute delay. No crashes have been reported yet and –“_

“Do you work today?” I think for a minute that my mother is asking me the question.

“No, I’m just wearing a suit for fun.” I turn to look at her, but she is raising her eyebrows and tilting her head Levi’s way. I turn to the left and spot Levi looking at me with a curious gleam. I place my plate down on the wooden table in front of me and view him in wonder. “…why are you concerned?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Don’t think of going through all my shit when I leave. It cost more than anything you will ever afford in your entire life.” I immediately head toward the path of him being a delinquent, because that what he was to me. “And don’t go trying to drink up all the alcohol in the pub bar either. Those wines cost a lot of money for someone like _you_ to –“

“Eren.” – my mother’s stern voice interrupts my ranting. I realize Levi is just sitting there, looking at me with the most nonchalant expression that I can’t quite decipher beyond that. Mom’s phrase keeps me halted for a few minutes, recognizing that maybe Levi didn’t need to hear that type of shit early in the morning, so I roll my eyes and grab my plate off the table. I stand up and fix the ends of my suit.

“I’m heading out,” I announce. I pass by Levi with no sympathy for what I said to him. I’ve said worst, why does this time matter? I shake my head and place my plate in the sink. I realize for a few moments of my walking that my mom is following me to the front door. I grab the briefcase hidden in a closet near the thick double doors of the housing and tuck it under my underarm. I grab my car keys from the small hanging to the left of the door. As I do, I can’t help but notice my mother’s figure watching me get ready.

“You are oddly quiet today.” I break the silence with my words. Mom shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms. I touch the lock on the front door and turn it slightly. I exit out the house without any words of goodbye. I needed to get out of there. I needed to. Her silence didn't sit well with me.

“Well, well, well – if it isn’t _Dr. Jaeger_. The top lawyer who didn’t show up yesterday!"

The drive to the firm was silent today. I zoned in-and-out the whole drive there. I was eventually parked and walking into the building, and soon enough in the elevator to my floor. Petra waited for me at her desk near my office with the evident look of anger on her face. She pushes herself out of the chair and chants to me her words of complaints.

“Do you have any idea how laboring yesterday was for me?” She shakes her head in anger and dabs her finger at me. “I had no choice but to call in Moblit to take over. Your personal phone rings non-stop, and all of your pencils at the desk broke whenever I tried to write down numbers, and your office smells like ass! And I didn’t get to go home until four hours later!” I begin entering my office, but she follows me like an annoying child. “– and another thing – “

“Listen!” I boom out. I slam my briefcase onto the wooden desk before me, heart pounding and ears probably turning red in frustration. Petra flinches at the sound and ceases speaking as I run my hand through my hair. “I mean no disrespect to you, but as assistant to the head floor lawyer, I expect less of what I am getting from you right now.” I pull out my chair slightly as I speak. “I am _sick_ of hearing you complain every millisecond! I am aware you are older than me, but I have obtained this position with respectful leadership to each one of you and I expect the same from the people I am required to _keep in check_. If you find yourself thinking this job is too meddlesome for you, I am well able to find another qualified lawyer to take your place. Am I speaking fucking English to you, Petra?”

She looks at me with a countenance of shock, guilt, and rage. She shuffles her feet for a moment and places a hand on her hip for a second. “What the _hell_ is up with you today?” Just like Petra to forget the entire message of my rant. I squeeze the bone structure in the middle of my eyes and slouch my body onto the chair. She still peers at me. “You’ve never taken what I say that seriously.”

“It’s nothing. I just had a hard day yesterday.” _And this morning_...I can see her mouth opening to ask more of what happened, but I interrupt before she could. “What is the update on the interns?” Petra’s face perks up at the thought of the interns and nods her head.

“Christa is doing well. Thomas has a little work to do, and Armi –“

“Christa? I don’t remember a Christa on my floor.”

“Oh –“ Petra slaps her head humorously. “Historia. She prefers to be called by Christa because many people pronounce her name wrong.”

“Understandable.” I begin clicking away on the computer on my desk and nonchalantly responding to emails as fast as possible. “Continue.”

“Anyways, she is under Moblit, and he is doing a wonderful job explaining to her the ways. She is easily one of the best in comprehension so far. Thomas is under Oluo. Eh, …it’s going okay. Oluo isn’t the best teacher in the world…” She cringes slightly and crosses her arms. “Armin hasn’t had much time for overview considering you left, however, we did have a surprise visit yesterday that benefited him greatly.”

“Surprise?” I look up from the computer and open my ears to pay attention to her next words. Petra smirks and chuckles. It’s like she had a secret innuendo up her sleeve.

“Mr. Smith –“

“Oh, _god_ –“

“- came for a visit yesterday. He found out about your absence and offered to take Armin into his own teaching for that evening…”

“He is going to have my ass when he sees me.” I murmur to myself. Petra agrees with me and eventually turns around. She grabs the doorknob to my office door and turns it slightly. It’s as if she had what she wanted to say and left me to mourn alone.

“Well, I’ll leave you to grieve about your future meeting with Mr. Smith. Hope you don’t get fired.” She chuckles like the devil and exits the room with her laughs echoing. I roll my eyes and place a finger on my temple.

“Evil bitch,” I whisper.

A certain raven-haired male happened to be the catalyst for my dreaded morning, and I find myself wondering what else his presence would ruin today. I believe in spiritual forces, and with negative energy – negative things are bound to happen. So, I sigh, continue to catch up on office work I missed and think of persuading and understandable excuses to give my boss the minute he called me in. Because he would call me. My co-workers forget sometimes that I am just like them – expected to hold up nearly _perfect_ work ethic with more rights than wrong. Especially because I am a fucking floor manager. Shit I would get away with as a simple associate I would never get away with in my position today.

It seems like breakfast has been a spark for my pessimistic days. First Goodies, and the argument with my mother, now breakfast in the morning and the shitstorm that is going to be today. I sigh for the thousandth time and make it a general note that maybe instead of having breakfast tomorrow – I should just skip it all together.

* * *

 

My hand starts shaking as I’m walking to a Veterinarian Hospital. It’s not cold out. It's actually incredibly hot. But, the morning sun is actually quite relaxing. As my footsteps fall in front of another, I find myself zoning out and almost dropping the iPhone in my hand that gave me directions.

My back hurts too. My thighs too, and I feel tired.

By the time I make it to the hospital, it is already running around a fast clock. Small mammals are almost everywhere. Many are going in and out – just there for simple shots or check-ups. I avoid people’s eyes as I walk up to the entrance to the hospital. A lady walks out with dark brown hair and a cage in her two hands. She looks up at me, scrunches her eyebrows a bit, and walks away as if she didn’t judge me then and there.

Then again, I do still bruises on my face and my attire isn’t that appealing. But it doesn’t give them the right to judge me anyway.

I slowly stroll into the lobby area where people are waiting in chairs with their respective friends. Many animals are whining, some are barking – but other than that it is relatively quiet from their mouths. The other half belongs to the complaining _humans_. I walk up to the line of people waiting to talk to the person behind the counter and stick my hands into my pocket.

“Listen, I came up here a few weeks ago to give my cat a checkup and they offered me medicine that cost forty dollars? Are any of you aware of how ridiculous that is?”

“Ma’am, I understand, but I am not the doctor who prescribed them to you….”

I shuffle on my feet and think of leaving. Before I can even indulge in my thoughts, another person walks up to the counter and raises their hand. “I’m free for appointment check-in.” She asserts before sitting on the stool near her. I look at the person in front of me and notice they didn’t hear, so I hurriedly walk over to her and awkwardly lean against the counter.

“Has there been any dogs being treated for fire burns here?” She looks at me as if I’m crazy. I shake my head and sigh. “He is a puppy. Gray coat…blue eyes. I don’t know his breed. I haven’t owned a dog before.” She leans on the counter with me and gazes at me as if I’m stupid.

“We have several dogs being treated for burn wounds. However, I’m not allowed to disclose those animals unless you are the owner. Do you have any records or proof of ownership? Can I have your name? ”

“No.” – I don’t even give her a chance to start typing on the computer. I scowl at her and cross my arms over each other. “Are the dogs okay then? Are any of them dead?”

“I’m not authoriz – “

“He was a _fucking_ stray. I just saw him limping out of a fire and called 911. I’m just trying to see if he is doing alright. That’s it.” I can’t help my attitude. This was the third hospital I visited today, and I don’t have time for any of these stupid privacy ass games. “Can I bribe you with money? _Anything_?”

She stays silent for a few moments. She shakes her head and leans back in her stool. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to forward to the waiting room. I’ll get back to you with any information I can.” She says it with a sly tone. I know just from it that she is lying, and that she will have me waiting for hours. I want to throw everything on the counter to the floor like a child. I want to scream and yell. I want to do all these things that my body won’t let me do.

My back still hurts. My left hand won’t stop shaking like a heroin addict. I can practically hear my heart banging its hands on my rib-cage. I lick my lips and head over to the waiting room. Many are in there patiently. I change the entire dynamic by slamming myself in the chair and interrupting the subtle silences. I ignore stares and glares and pull out Eren’s phone. Scrolling through the contacts, I click a number with a name I didn’t recognize and hoped it would be one of his co-workers.

It rings, and rings, and rings. I scowl and clutch the phone harder. The minute it clicks and a voice began to speak, I interrupt immediately.

“Is Eren Jaeger there? Put him on the phone.”

* * *

 

“Uh…Hello?” Petra’s voice is faint outside of my office. She often leaves my office door cracked so I am aware of incoming calls. I listen to the conversation on Petra’s part as I look over files by habit. I can hardly hear the person on the other side of the phone.

_“Let me repeat: do you know Eren Jaeger? Or are you one of his hook-ups?”_

 “…Mr. Jaeger is not in office right now. Can I have your name and number so I can forward him your concern?”

_“Then where the hell is he? And yes – my name is John Doe. Connect me to his phone line.”_

All I can hear is Petra’s slight sigh. I wonder what asshole of a person who got connected to this time. “Sir, I am not allowed to connect you to anywhere without his permission. I need a phone number as well.”

 _“Why is it so hard for you uptight lawyers to let shit pass? Why is everything a fucking pen signature and a permission slip?”_ A heavy sigh enters Petra’s ears. _“I’m calling back in twenty minutes.”_ A relieving click resonates her ears. She slams the office phone back into its holding and groans loudly.

“The _shit_ I deal with at this job!” I chuckle softly though I didn’t know the extent of the situation. Petra makes a racket outside of my office and soon enough my door flies open. She heads in and rolls her eyes at the mess of work on my desk. “This asshole just called and gave me a fake name – John Doe. He said he is calling back in twenty minutes and I am _not_ talking to him. I will be forwarding it to you.” She looks at me for confirmation. I nod and set my pen down.

“That’s fine. I’ll deal with him.” She sighs in relief and turns around to head back out. I crack my knuckles and chuckle once more. The number of assholes she gets per-day, I’m not surprised she surrendered to letting me deal with it. Within the business aspect of my career, professionalism is something I had to learn the hard way. There is hardly a day I disrespect people over the phone. I’d much rather do it in person – so at least they can’t complain that I was rude with the recording camera within my office.

The phone starts to ring. I give a small smirk and look at Petra’s figure outside the office who ignored it. I hold it up to my ear and press a number. “Hello, this is –“

“I couldn’t wait twenty minutes. Now forward me to Eren Jaeger or I will send you every fucking nude in this goddamn phone.”

Wait…. _what_.

“Is this –“ My eyebrows invert, and my throat constricts. “Is this who I think it is?”

“Uh, definitely not John Doe Sherlock. What time do you get off work? I need your help.”

“My help!” I can feel the tone of my voice getting louder. “Why the fuck are you calling my office phone? Matter of fact – how do you have Petra’s office number? Did you go snooping in my fucking _room_?”

“No one was in that dirty ass room!”

“Get off my line. And do not call this number again.” I hang up the phone quickly and push the whole device away. Clicking my pen, I raise my voice high enough for Petra to hear me outside the office. “Anymore calls from this number is to be ignored. Do not forward me his number and block him if he continues calling.” I assert. Petra gives a hum of understanding and doesn’t ask my relation to the male. She obviously heard the situation. I thank her for a brief moment for not asking me, because I don’t think I can handle the rising anger of explaining my whole ordeal once more.

So, he calls. And calls, and calls, and calls – because he obviously has nothing else better to do. Petra glares at me every time she hands me more paperwork or updates me with associate concerns. I try and disregard her attitude toward it. I have enough stress building up, and I really don’t need her complaints as of today.

 _Erwin Smith <_ _erwin.smith@slf.com > _

_To me_

_Hello Dr. Jaeger,_

_I’ve had the pleasure to come in contact with the intern you have been assigned: Mr. Armin Arlert. He is truly a phenomenal student and has a brain a thousand more times as influential as mine. It is unfortunate he was not able to share his ideas with a compatible intellect, such as yourself, considering you were absent yesterday. When you get the chance, please see me on the seventh floor for a brief conversation. I’ll see you in two hours._

“Uh…Mr. Jaeger?” Moblit walks into my office.

“What.”

“You have…a phone call.”

“Just what I _fucking_ need.” Moblit finches at the sound of my voice. He holds his mobile work phone in his hands. I scrunch up my face at the device. “From your phone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hand it over.” He places the phone into my hands. I raise it up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Guess _who_ ,” He says it playfully, but also emotionlessly.

It takes me a second to remember that he has my _fucking phone_.

“ _Me_. I’m just going to brief what is happening so I can appeal to your lawyer instincts. I’m at a veterinarian hospital called Banfield for Eddy. He got burned in the fire, but I couldn’t let the firemen know he was mine so I hid him in Grisha’s car, but then I found out he was bleeding –“

“ – wait, wait, wait, why couldn’t you tell them he was yours? You paid for hi –“

“You really think I paid for him? I literally _stole_ him from Petco. You didn’t think it was suspicious I didn’t have any papers confirming it? Are you stupid?” I open my mouth to let out the words that were so desperately pushing against my throat, but his voice stopped me. “Anyways, Grisha took him to the pet hospital and I want to see if he is okay, but they won’t let me see him. They probably think I’m so crackhead or something trying to steal a dog. But I’m not. I’m just really worried about him and Jesus fucking Christ you are my last choice with your stupid, charismatic, rich, lawyer-looking, Bill Gates personality. So please –“ He pauses for a second as if that word was something he has never said before. “ – help me out and bring your ass here so I can get my dog.”

“ …Afterward, I’ll head to Isabel’s house so you won’t have to deal with me anymore. I’ll get my stuff and get out of your hair. You probably won’t see me ever again. I promise, on my _mother_. ”

It takes me a few moments to comprehend what he is saying to me. Moblit is still standing before me, wondering what the hell was happening over the phone to make me so silent. I shake my head and run my hand through my dirty brown locks. I have papers up the ass to fill out because I keep putting them off for the next day. I have to schedule meetings because I keep canceling, and schedule check-ins with the interns because I haven’t done so yet. I have to arrange on getting Petra extra pay for taking my position yesterday. I have a serious meeting with my boss, who is the son of the founder, about my lack of responsibility. But I swear to god – breakfast has to be the blame for this. _Breakfast_. _Breakfast_.

Maybe blaming it on some intangible thing will help take the blame off me. So, maybe because breakfast is the villain here, I can continue to indulge in the negativity around me. It can’t get better anyways. Breakfast started it. Why try and change something that has already happened? Why do I always have to be the punctual one here? What’s the point of covering dirt with dirt? It won’t make it any prettier.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” - so I succumb to it instead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next chapter done already. I'll probably post it tomorrow or sometime soon. It finally has a little bit of the Ereri feels many of you are looking for, so I couldn't wait to write it. I mean this whole story is romance ya know... (sometimes I forget lol). Drop a review if you'd like on how you're feeling. I'm trying to respond more because I just love you guys. I'm very affectionate. 
> 
> Anyhow, you see you guys in the next chapter!


	8. Welcome To Wendy's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I've never been in a food fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who left reviews the last chapter. It really inspired me to write more for this fic and I'm glad some people are enjoying it. :)

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Petra barges into the office as I’m grabbing my suitcase. I disregard placing any of the papers on my desk into the leather case. I push them to the side, not even stacked properly, and slam my laptop closed. I place it into my case and tuck in my office chair. “ _Eren_.” She says my name in complete sincerity. I look up at her in her eyes. She jerks her head at me and waves her arms. “Answer me. Why the hell are you leaving? You can’t just leave a job as a floor manager. Not everyone is going to cover your ass!”

“I need to leave.” – I announce. "I have - uh - something important to do..." I rub my face and begin to slowly walk toward her. “Have Moblit take any questions. I mean, if you ask me, you are free to leave as well.” She laughs sarcastically and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, okay, like Mr. Smith will be fine with that. And what about your meeting, yeah?” She pushes my shoulder slightly. “Are you looking to get _fired_?”

“It wouldn’t be the most unfortunate thing in my life.” I accidentally blurt. Petra ceases speaking and almost glares at me when I avert from looking right into her eyes. She places her hand on her hip and shakes her head. She peers away from me and mutters to herself.

“I can’t believe you. You have one of the best jobs in New York - one of _the highest-paying jobs_ in New York as well – and you’d risk that all for what? For who?” She tilts her head for an answer.

_‘For freedom. Happiness. Love. I’d risk it all if it was there.’_ I think to myself. I roll my eyes and shuffle the briefcase under my arm. “I’m aware of my privilege, I won’t ignore it.” I lick my lips. “ – but I just need a day, Petra. _Just a day_.”

“A day for what? The world doesn’t stop for you! You are a grown man, Eren! You can’t have these sudden bursts of childish acts like anyone is going to act like a kid with you!”

“I’m well aware.” I chuckle. I shake my head and head for my office door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Petra.” She doesn’t have a chance to answer. I’m hurrying out of the door before anyone can stop me. My co-workers at looking at me, curious as to where I’m going to quickly. I ignore them and take the steps down the building. I can feel bricks that were laying on my chest lifting at the fact I’m close to leaving.

It feels good, you know. Making your own decisions and not thinking about the consequences. Though mine is simply leaving a job early, it seems like a breath of fresh air.

The Tesla is warm when I’m inside the car. The usual cold metal of the seat belt burned the shit out of me this time. However, I ignore it for the sole purpose of just getting the fuck away from the firm. I place the car in gear and back out of the spot as fast as possible. It takes me a few moments of driving before I remember where I’m truly going, but it my head, it doesn’t even matter.

As long as I’m not there.

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes and he is still not here. I’ve spent a total of four hours at the hospital. The woman at the counter is still there, but the crowd has died down a bit. She stands there flipping through a magazine and chewing gum. I scowl and start wiggling my leg. There are only about five people in the waiting room now, and most of them are here for check-ups. I roll my eyes and lean against the chair.

He isn’t coming. He lied. He lied and he is an asshole. I don’t know why I just don’t sneak in the back and check every door for Eddy. Sure, I might go to jail, but it’s not like I don’t have connections. Not good connections, but connections nonetheless.

“Good afternoon, sir.” I hear the sly tone of the woman at the counter. I avoid looking up at her and glare at the ground. My hand has been shaking nonstop, and I can feel fatigue overcoming me. My eyes are heavy, and though I had some of the best sleep of my life last night, my body acts as if it had been just an imagination. I hear the woman chuckle slightly with the shuffling of paper. “What can I help _you_ with?”

“Hello, ma’am.” I jerk up out of my half-way sleep and peer up at the front desk. There Jaeger stood, with his extra ass dark green suit on and hair messily covering his face. He struts up to the front desk and dashes out a flashing smile. It almost sparkles like a Crest commercial. I reduce my chuckle and stand up. As I do, my whole-body tilts to the left and I almost fall to the ground. However, I catch myself and shake my head.

I hate when I get like this.

“I'm looking for a small dog. My father found him in a fire last night and brought him here.” He sighs like it was so unfortunate. As if he was there to see how much pain Eddy was in when I found out he was bleeding. His small whines are normal, but the minute I moved him from my lap in Grisha’s car, the blood was flooding in his fur. My ignorance is the only reason why I didn't notice it beforehand. “We were wondering who his owner is and wanted to check on him. My father’s name is Grisha Jaeger, and his phone number is…”

The lady at the counter starts typing as Jaeger tells her his father’s number. As she does, I slowly walk over near the desk. Jaeger catches sight of me and scrunches his eyebrows. He holds up his hand as if to tell me to _‘stay where I am’_ and looks back at the woman at the counter.

“Well, it looks like we do have a Grisha Jaeger in the system. I’ll contact a nurse to bring you down to see him.” She averts her eyes back up at Jaeger and smiles flirtingly. “You are welcome to wait in the waiting room for now, sir.” Jaeger nods his head and gives her one last smile. He strolls over to me as I was nearly in and out of the glass door to the waiting room. He pulls me out of the room and glares down at me.

“You stole a fucking dog.” – ah, the best words to start a decent conversation. I roll my eyes and cross my arms over each other.

“Why not? Those fuckers weren’t treating him right anyway.” I scoff and lean against the white pillar near me. “They had him separated in a cage by himself.”

“Well, maybe it was for a reason.”

“A reason? He literally looks a few months old.” I murmur to him. I shake my head and look away from him. “I don’t expect moral idiots like you to understand.”

“Moral idiots? Says the guy who steals a dog and the next day gets it caught in a fucking fire.” That one hurt slightly. I see Jaeger place his fingers to his temples and look at me as if I’m stupid. I can feel my heart pounding once more. “Who doesn’t understand the safety concerns of owning a heater? That is completely reckless! You have no responsibility in owning a _dog_.”

“Whatever.” I begin. I clench my fist together and I can feel my face heating up in anger. I can handle a dog. I can take care of a dog. I know I can. And I don’t need him telling me otherwise. “ _Whatever_. Maybe if you realize the fact I was basically in a _near-death experience_ from a fucking heater, with no idea of where I was going to sleep the rest of the night, and realizing that everything I ever owned was in that fucking apartment – you’d be less of an asshole right now! But, you wouldn’t know that, would you?” I chuckle relentlessly. “With your fucking big-shot house, but you have the nerve to complain about how your mom is on your ass too much! _Please_!” Jaeger looks at me in confusion, like I forgot that he mentioned his mother bitching too much at him the first night we met. “I fucking _wish_ my mother hounded my ass like she did yours. Then maybe I wouldn’t here, trying my best to see if a dog I just got isn’t dead from a wound on his back just because I was too high or drunk or _something_ to notice it in the first fucking place.”

Silence. Pure silence, until he opens his mouth.

“Typical.”

No sympathy, either.

“Mr. Jaeger?” A soft voice calls from the hallway near us. A male in baby blue scrubs and a clipboard looks around the waiting room expectantly. Jaeger lifts his head and turns around. I do as well. I try and blink my eyes a few times to focus on the view in front of me so I could walk properly. The nurse leads us down a hallway that gives me the chills. It’s slightly cold, and the bright colors make my eyes hurt. I rub them and shuffle my feet to follow the speed of Jaeger.

_“Typical.”_

“The dog has a small injury. He is not in incredible pain.” The nurse laughs as he speaks with Jaeger about the updates on Eddy. I follow behind slowly and try to listen. “He was just in the room barking up a storm! So, I’m sure he will be fine.” Jaeger nods his head. I can feel a sense of relief flooding through me at the thought. The nurse soon stops in front of a white door and opens it slowly.

There he was. Sitting on a small table of wrap paper with a woman petting him. His tail is wagging quickly, and he seems happy at the attention. I can feel my heart fluttering at the sight of him. I push myself into the room and contain myself from making baby noises.

The minute Eddy sees me, he starts barking and tries to get up. He whines slightly when he moves too much and causes irritation to his wound. The bandage on the side of his thigh is almost glued to his fur. I try to contain myself from petting him and cuddling him in my arms. I missed him so much. I clutch my fist and turn to look at the nurse before me.

“How much would it be to adopt him?” Like I didn’t steal him already.

“Oh…” The nurse deflates slightly. “We found no chip on him, so he is ownerless. But he is a Pitbull, so…” I scrunch up my eyebrow when he pauses. I get an attitude quick, of course.

“So, what?”

“You need a license to own a Pitbull dog in this city. He is considered a _‘vicious dog’_ here.” The nurse begins to explain more. “He would cost the amount of how much the shelter would price him, plus a license to own him. That would be around two-thousand dollars minimum.”

“Two-thousand dollars?” My jaw almost drops at the price. Who the fuck said a dog could cost so much? “It’s just a fucking dog.” The woman and nurse flinch slightly at my choice of words. Jaeger only rolls his eyes and begins to scratch Eddy behind his ear.

“He is a Blue Nose, sir. They cost more because they are more desirable.” I _would_ go and steal the most expensive dog from Petco. I sigh and rub the space between my eyes. I push my black locks behind my ears and look at Eddy. He is huffing and puffing, tongue swinging out of his mouth and baby-blue eyes glowing brighter than everything I’ve ever seen. I avert my eyes and look down at the floor. I’m about to respond to just take him to the shelter, keep him there, and let him find someone else who won’t be a shit owner – but Jaeger’s voice interrupts.

“I’ll take him.” He voices. He pets Eddy’s coat and scratches his back. “ – and I’ll pay five-thousand for him right now. No shelter-talks or anything.” Jaeger leans against the counter near him and looks at the nurse in his eyes. “I’d like to get his vaccinations and everything done today, however.” The woman and nurse take a few moments to respond. Their eyes are wide at the thought of the generous money, and they scurry up before Jaeger can change his mind.

“U-uh. We will take this to our higher-ups for confirmation, sir. We will be back.” They exit out of the small room. That leaves me and Jaeger in an awkward silence. I shuffle on my feet and frown. Jaeger speaks up when he sees this.

“Why the hell are you upset?” I gape at him with irritation and disappointment.

“Oh, I don’t know. You just bought my fucking dog.” I shake my head. He probably did it to spite me too. Just so I could leave his house knowing he had my dog, the dog I grew such a connection to within this few days. My very first dog ever. Something I have always wanted, and he took it. All he had to do was offer money and he got whatever he wanted. No matter if it was actually _legal_ , as long as he had a check, people didn’t care much. “You are an asshole,” I say inevitably. Jaeger shakes his head at me and gestures to Eddy lazily.

“I bought him for you, dumbass.”

… _oh_.

“Oh,” I stammer. I can feel heat flowing up my cheeks in embarrassment, but I can’t help but feel happiness screaming in my stomach. “You’re still an asshole.” I won’t say thank you.

“Whatever. I only did it because I don’t want him to end up in the pound.”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation.”

“Yeah? Well, I gave you one. What are you doing to do about it?”

“Are you trying to start an argument with me?”

“Maybe,” Jaeger shrugs his shoulders at me. “What else am I going to do? I can’t have a conversation with you without getting mad.”

“Why?” I look around the room in disbelief. “What the fuck did _I do_? Do you get off on completely tearing people down to make yourself feel better?” I walk over to Eddy and begin to rub the top of his head. He licks my hand and closes his eyes. “I’ve done nothing to you. If anything, I’ve been trying to leave our relationship off on a better note considering your father is married to my _mother_.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Jaeger voices. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans over in his suit. “I’m entitled to dislike you.”

“And I’m entitled to ask why.”

“…Good point.” Jaeger shrugs his shoulders and fiddles with a string hanging on his wrist. We wait for the nurse to come back silently. Jaeger shuffles against the counter, and I only play with Eddy as much as I can. Sometimes I accidentally chuckle too loud, and Jaeger glares at me as if I’m not good enough to have fun. I bite my lip and push the guest chair next to the stand Eddy sat on. I continue to pet him for a while. Eventually, however, the silence is broken between us when Jaeger opens his mouth once more.

“Why do you want a dog so bad?” He asks it as if to pass time. I look up at him in his bright eyes. Ones that change color whenever they want, not caring if someone wanted to know what they truly were. The ones that kind of looked like the ocean, but also showed a glimpse of a green tropical forest. The ones I hated staring into, because I’m inclined to know what he thinks of me behind them. He is just as much as a judgmental prick as anyone else I have met. He is no different. Sad to know such gorgeous irises hold an ugly reality.

I sigh softly and answer.

“I never had one as a kid. I once had a goldfish, but it died because I feed it the wrong food.” Jaeger chuckles in a way that kind of soothes my ears. I want to smirk, but I fear his brighter mood tearing down because of it. His lip is curled up on the end, and he looks at me for more information. I reluctantly continue. “I fed it grass. I thought that it was supposed to eat that.” I start wiggling my leg in slight anxiety. My hand starts shaking again, and this time I’m lucky to be able to hide it behind Eddy’s small form. “I once had a lizard, but I stole it from my neighbors so I had to take it back the next day.”

“You’re pretty into that stealing stuff, huh?”

“Beats buying stuff.” I shrug my shoulders. Jaeger nods his head and stays silent. It doesn’t hit me until a couple minutes later that that was the first time we’ve ever had a conversation. No arguing. No insulting. Just an innocent question, and an answer. I want to sigh in relief that I maybe didn’t have to deal with his anger for much longer. It was getting to be ridiculous.

He makes me wonder what makes people in general not like me. Sometimes I try to change it. I try and change the tone of my voice a little bit so I can make a better impression.  Sometimes I just don't talk in general, because maybe that is what is best for me. You can't hate someone who hasn't given you a reason. I’ve even tried to date women, so maybe I would seem a little bit more normal to others. I then wouldn’t have to be glared at as if I’m a burden – a nuisance. An anomaly. I know I have an uncontrollable mouth, and I know sometimes I make jokes at the wrong times. And I know I’m sometimes I’m impulsive, and I know I can get angry quickly when things don’t go my way.

I know I drink too much, too.

And I know people don’t like that, like Jaeger. Hell, there isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t mention my tendencies to drink. I wonder why sometimes it’s such a big deal. Then I remember, it wouldn’t be if I was left alone. No one would care. I could extract myself from this tiny family dynamic, run away to a far away apartment back in Texas with Kenny like Momma said, and be by myself. Then I could drink all I want and drown in the self-pity. I wouldn’t have to tell anyone, and no one would look at me as if I’m the scum of the earth. Only I would be entitled to think that because I witness it every day. I wouldn't have people like Jaeger reminding me every moment of my life. As if it is something that genuinely bothers him. 

I wonder why I don’t just do that. Just...go back home. Kenny would love to have me back anyway. Why did I even come here in the first place? All for Momma’s wedding - who can’t even look me in the eyes anymore without explaining how much she doesn’t want me here. I should have just stayed in Texas. It isn’t worth it anymore. None of it is. And my hands keep shaking like I’ve done eighty lines of coke, and my back hurts so much, and I am so tired, and I need a _drink,_ and I want to have sex - all to just aid the sickening anxiety bubbling in my stomach just from being here. I want to be able to wither away into my own place where I am so, so, so much happier. Where don't have to deal with any of this. Where life is less harsh, and the only thing causing me trouble are my impulsive decisions to pick up the glass bottle, and not remember sometimes why I did it in the first place. 

* * *

 

“Welcome to Wendy’s, what can I get for you tonight?”

“Can I get – uh – two double-cheese burgers, one plain and the other regular, three medium fries, and a medium chocolate shake?”

“Yes, sir. That will be eleven-eighty. Pull up to pay for your meal.”

I inwardly do a happy dance at the fact of getting my favorite meal. Fast-food at night, as I always say, is _divine_. I press the pedal softly to the gas and pull up behind a car. I step on the brake and bring out my wallet from my back pocket. Pulling out a twenty, I wait for the car to drive up so I can pay for my meal and eventually get it.

“I don’t know why you eat this shit. Jack in A Box is much better.” I peer over at Levi who sat buckled up. Eddy laid in the backseat in a soft bed I bought at the nearest store. Levi continuously looks back at him, making sure he is sleeping well. He looks like a mother hen, sheltering the small animal from any harm. His nose, however, is puckered up in disgust at the fast food restaurant. I roll my eyes and place my hand on the wheel.

After getting Eddy his shots and officially claiming him as my own, it was close to night time. Work became a far away thought at that point, and after screaming insults and threats to Levi for a whole hour, it’s like my mouth seems dried out from any more content. I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is eat and sleep. So, for once, I am in sympathy to be cordial with Levi Ackerman for the sake of my _own sanity_.

“Jack in A Box is trash. I will never eat them again in my entire life.” I mutter to him. Before he can answer, I pull up to pay for my meal quickly. I hand the woman the twenty, ask her to keep the change, and immediately drive forward to the next window. I can hear Levi next to me cursing to himself at my rush. I excitedly wait for the person in the window to hand me the greasy bags of food so I can finally indulge in my guilty pleasure.

“Here you go, sir. Enjoy your meal!” I grab the bag and kind of want to cry. I hold it to my chest and thank the woman at the window. I drive forward immediately into a parking spot and park the car. Levi looks at me oddly and rolls his eyes.

“What – ‘You can’t eat and drive or something?’” I roll my eyes at the joke and grab the thicker cheeseburger for myself and the two fries. I hand the rest to Levi. He grabs his food and slowly begins to open his cheeseburger. I’ve already taken a bite of mine. The flavor of the lettuce, sauce, tomatoes, and pickles make my mouth water. I moan and chew the delicious meal.

So, we sat there, after waiting three hours for Eddy to get his shots and records, eating greasy Wendy’s fast food at nine at night. The windows are rolled down, and the smell of the cheeseburger is so potent that it is probably going to be the smell of my car for the rest of the night. The fries are so crunchy that I have to take a moment to thank god for the delicious meal. As I’m munching on my burger, I notice Levi picking at his burger like it is the most disgusting thing ever and taking small nibbles.

“I can’t believe you eat that shit. I hate pickles and tomatoes.” He wipes his mouth from leftover grease, and peers over at me with his cheeks full of hamburger. “It tastes like ass.” Just to spite him, I pull out a pickle from the burger and swing it near him. He jerks away from it like it’s a cockroach. It almost makes me laugh out loud at his expression, but I resist considering I still had food in my mouth to chew. “Stop!” I do it again, and he slaps my hand. “Damn-it, I said stop! It stinks!”

The pickle falls onto the hand gear in the middle of us. I chuckle slightly and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I ignore it and grab his shake. Levi notices where my hands are going and tackles my wrist like it was a wild animal’s throat. “Do-fucking-not.”

“I didn’t get anything to drink. Let me have a goddamn sip…”

“No, you literally just ate that nasty ass burger. Get your hands off of it you beast.”

“Beast? I bought you this food.” I roll my eyes at him and grab my burger off my lap. “That’s fine. I’ll remember that next time I decide to buy your ass some food.” Levi is silent for a moment. He crunches on the fries for a moment. He soon grabs the chocolate shake near him and opens the plastic cup. He wiggles the straw toward my face.

“Here. Drink it.” I glare at him in suspicion. “I didn’t poison it, idiot. Just drink it before I change my mind.” So, I do. It tastes sweet, of course, and soothes my buds. As I sip, Levi’s fingers are oddly close to my lips as he holds the drink for me. I peer up at him and get slightly lost in the small gleam in his eyes. His eyes are a deep gray tonight, apart from when I first met him, where they were a dark blue. His lips are making irritable movement, showing he was getting impatient at how long I was taking. I depart from the drink, a string of salvia connecting to the thick white straw, and I lick my lips. I notice Levi’s completely disgusted expression at the left-over spit on the straw. I want to laugh, because I love doing evil things to him, but I stop myself. I go back after the burger once more. Levi pulls the straw out of the chocolate shake and suddenly, out of _fucking_ _nowhere_ , throws the whole straw at me. It lands on my suit pants, remains of chocolate shake soaking into my slacks, and my jaw drops for a moment. I can see the cost of my suit going down and down. I glare up at him and shake my head.

“Seriously? Was it that serious? This suit cost a lot of money!”

“Keep your hands to yourself then, you _moocher_. If you wanted a shake you should have got one!”

“You know what…“ I open my burger and grab the tomatoes and pickles stuck on there. Mushing them together with my hands, I connect gazes with Levi who immediately grabs the handles to the car.

“Stop playing with your fucking food, Er – “ He opens the car door and almost screams in terror when I throw it at him. I miss his sweatpants by inches, and half of my toppings are thrown onto the concrete of the parking lot of Wendy’s. I feel anger building up in me that I missed, so I grab the other half of my burger and bend down to look out the car door. Levi stands outside the car with a smug look on his face. I hate it, so I lean over to get a better view of him and shoot the burger toward his sweatpants.

It hits, and as he shakes his legs, his pants are left with a stain of mayonnaise and mustard. I give a huff of laughter and point to him like an idiotic child. “Ha! Dumbass! That’s what you get for throwin’ that shit at – a-AH –“

Levi is smart, but not smarter than me. He jumps back into the car to grab his milkshake, but I grab it first. He fights for the dessert and eventually takes hold of it. After placing so much pressure on the drink, it eventually begins to crack, and the cold shake floods over fingers. Levi jerks away quickly, anger showed on his face and wipes the shake onto my suit. He pushes my whole arm toward my chest, and I can’t help but yell when the chocolate shake splashes onto my face and gets onto my window shield.

“Are you fucking serious, Levi?” I shout angrily. “This is an expensive suit!”

“Not anymore, you bitch! How dare you throw that shit on me?” Levi situates himself back in the car and closes the car door. He crosses his arms and points to the road. “Take us back to your house. I’m mad now.”

“You just threw all chocolate shake on me! I think I am the one entitled to have a temper tantrum!” I look around my car and see the mess we made. “And my Tesla looks like shit!”

“Yeah, well you do too.” Levi keeps staring at me for a few seconds. I sigh when he does and turn the key for the car engine to start up. I try and function with the cold shake soaking on my thighs and chest. I shuffle uncomfortably and begin to back out of the parking lot. Once I’m safely driving down an empty street, I pull out the fries I had hidden under the seat the minute he starts throwing things. I munch on them for a few minutes before Levi finally notices the noise.

“You saved the fries…”

“Yeah…so?” I assert. I take three from the paper holder and stuff them in my mouth. “What, you want some?” Levi stays silent for a few moments before leaning over to grab the fries between my legs. His face gets oddly close to mind, and I can smell the faint clean scent of shampoo in his hair. I swallow the spit in my mouth. I’m shocked for a few moments from it, but recover quickly when he begins eating the fries nonchalantly. We sit in comfortable silence. It was as if the little food fight we had didn’t even happen. It almost seemed…laughable the more I thought about it. What grown twenty-eight-year-old gets into a food fight with another grown man? I chuckle to myself at the thought. It became even more humorous when I remember how serious I took it. As if it was an actual fight, and not immature at all. I let out small doses of laughter, just to lighten the mood, and focus my gaze on the road.

_“You can’t have these sudden bursts of childish acts like anyone is going to act like a kid with you!”_

Levi stares out the window beside him, chewing the fries I bought, and I swear I heard him laugh too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter may take a while to be put up. I'll be taking two classes this summer, so it depends on how much shit they give me. By the way, I initially didn't have Eren and Levi's interaction like this. I was just going to have them talk - but it kind of seemed...too boring for them. I mean, when I think of these two, I think of clashing forces of two people who love to cause trouble, whether they are aware or not. And it seemed kind of unrealistic for the stubborn-ass Eren to actually have a serious conversation with Levi. I need a little bit more development before that. 
> 
> And anyway, this is a romantic comedy. Comic relief is great to write. :)


	9. Rebound Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I remember the first time I realized I was bisexual. I was having these thoughts, randomly as I may say, and when I actually comprehended it, I was like..."wait...did I really just think that?" And you know when you tell yourself not to think about something, and you think about it more? In psychology, this is called the rebound effect. In TNF's case, Eren is me. Haha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back, back, back, back again, 'gin, 'gin', 'gin

It gets kind of awkward when we get home. Jaeger offers to take care of Eddy in his room, considering he still is wounded and needs a more stable area to rest. Technically, I’m supposed to be heading to Isabel’s to see if she would let me stay over her house. She still hasn’t answered my phone calls or text, so I figure either Mom told her not to talk to me or she is too busy paying attention to her wimp of a boyfriend.

Or – _Fiancé_. Whatever she wants to call it. They’ve been together for a year and suddenly they are soulmates and no one else matters. Just the same with my mother. It’s as if they are waiting their whole lives for the love of their life, the one who will make all bad disappear when _they have been the one to cause it_ , and the minute they find them they can’t seem to get out of the puppy love. It’s always about _them, them, them, them_. It’s like they’ve become a god. Then their god ends up controlling them, telling them to do this or that, and that they can’t wear this, or they can’t hang out with them – and the foolish fuckers actually _listen_. They actually sit there and let this ‘deity’ manage their life. They give their life over to the devil. Then they have the nerve to cry when they leave and have nothing else to show for because everything they ever did was a minor development compared to the higher being.

As you can see, I hate the concept of romantic relationships.

With every romantic relationship I have witnessed, someone becomes a _product_ of manipulation and domination. My mother, a woman I deem to be the most influential figure in my life, submitted to the wrath I call my step-father’s love. She adored him, so much that I had become a minor occurrence to her. She would feed me, kiss me, leave me, and never come back until _he_ said she could. I was six at the time and only understood that the care my uncle had given me was somewhat father-ish. He enjoyed heavy handshakes and practicing playing baseball. That was all I knew from a man like him, and when he moved out of my grandparents’ house, where my mother and I stayed as well, my characteristic of a father become more prominent.

A father was: dominant, manipulating, vicious, controlling, abusive, oversexed, gross, cold-blooded, and simply _evil_.

At least, that is what one is to me.

“Where are you going?” – it blurts out my mouth before I can stop it. Jaeger looks back at me, eyebrow raised as he heads up the spiral steps a couple meters from the front door of his house. Eddy is curled up in his arms, yet Jaeger still tries to take off his stained suit. His tie is already completely loosened off his neck. I swallow the lump in my throat and shuffle on my feet slightly. “I mean…are you –“ – _kicking me out?_ Am I allowed to stay? Or should I leave before things get worse between us because God knows we both have horrible tempers. I refrain from asking.

“What do you mean?” He has an irritated tone in his voice. He looks at me for an answer, because I pause for a few seconds to rationalize what I’m about to say, and eventually rotates his eyes at me in annoyance.

“Never mind,” I whisper it so low I doubt he can hear me. Jaeger turns back around and heads up the stairs. My heart thumps loudly, and I can feel my throat calling for some type of water. I wait for him to disappear before I shut the front door. I stand there awkwardly and wonder what my next move would be. I could go to sleep, mostly to hinder the anxiety overcoming me on if I would have a place to live after today, or I could find something to do in this big ass house to calm my thoughts. I contemplate it, and eventually, decide to head downstairs to the basement.

Breaking the lock on the wine cellar, which actually held more than wine, was actually quite easy. Mostly because there isn’t one. The gate opens the minute my finger pulls the metal, and I somehow begin to think that maybe this is a sign that I _need_ this. I know for a fact Jaeger’s mother locked up the bar when she figured out I was coming over, and I remember it being locked because I did check.

But I don’t question it. I feel the cold glass bottles stacked up in the rectangular area, and I wonder what I would choose. I contemplate on whether he would separate based on intensity, and the minute I see the separation of Tequila from weak Moscato, I think in the back of my head – _‘I figured as much.’_

I subtly notice a small container of Patron and grab it quickly. It is the smallest bottle in there, and I figure if I drink that, it wouldn’t be as noticeable as a whole bottle. I pop up the wooden cap with fingers use to the hassle and softly place the wooden piece onto the bar counter. I walk at a snail’s pace toward the large L-shaped couch in the corner– aka my _bed_.  I sit down and smell the drink. My lips touch the glass’ outer edge, and I lick my lips.

And I drink. Swish it around my teeth and into every bleeding crevice, let my tongue float in the acid, and let it flow down my throat like a sedated river. It bubbles in my stomach. I can feel alarms go off in my gut, but my brain shouts in addicted victory. I can still taste the faintness even after I wait a few seconds. It hasn’t even hit me yet, but it has hit me. I take another drink. It doesn’t taste good, but it tastes _so good_. It feels good. It’s like it manipulated my mind into believing I haven’t had a sip of water in years, and it clings onto the alcohol like it will never be there again.

I don’t even like Patron. But then again, do I like any of this? Do I like having to have a drink every hour, just to calm my anxiety that spikes at any time things don’t go my way? I don’t, but I can’t deny the result. The sweet, bitter, calming, oblivious result of a typical addition.

It goes on all night. My head begins to _throb_. All I can hear is a screeching whine, and I worry I might have actually gone crazy. I dig my fingers into my hair and groan. An empty bottle of Patron lays on the floor, and I’ve drunken so much more than this before, but this _one_ got to me. I lay back onto the couch and curl up. My knees reach my chin, and I figure if I put pressure on my body, it would make the pain go away.

Then Jaeger’s cell phone starts ringing. He still forgot to get it from me, that dumbass. I reluctantly unwrap myself from the cocoon and dig into my sweatpants pocket. I pull out the phone and have to double take at the words on the screen.

_Incoming call…Isabella…._

I lift immediately from the couch into a sitting position, trying to ignore my throbbing body and headache. I shake my head and swipe the screen. I hold the phone to my ear and hesitantly wait for words to come about.

“Hello? Who is this?” Silence. “Hello? You called me five times. Is anyone there?” I have dry mouth still. I try and blame it on that. I open my mouth to respond, but she interrupts me again. “I’m hanging up.”

“Wait,” I blurt out. She makes a sound, pauses, and repeats her second line once more. I am quick to respond. “This is Levi.”

“Levi?” She asks it so questioningly as if it’s a surprise I’m calling her. “Why are you calling from this number? Where is your old phone?”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I lost it at a bar. I fear she will just hang up, annoyed with my antics. I shrug my shoulders, but then I remember she can’t see me. “It broke.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Okay…. what do you want?” I start picking at my bottom lip. I pull the skin, ignoring the stinging pain, and lick them to soothe the throbbing. I run a hand through my hair slowly and cough to clear my throat.

“Do you have an extra room for me to stay at?” An interlude of silence.

“No, I don’t.” She says it so coldly that I almost want to flinch. “Is that all?”

“Why are you acting like that?” I blame the alcohol for deeming me this bold. I stop pulling at the dead skin on my lip and curl my fist up in my lap. “I’m just asking for a favor and you’re acting like an asshole, Isabel.”

“Excuse me?” I don’t even know what she is going to say. I want to hang up, but I don’t have the strength to pull the phone away from my ear. My vision is doubling, and I figure staying still will leave me in the most conscious mind. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t ask for you to call me at almost one in the morning drunk. Keep in mind that I am getting married in a few months, and I don’t need your negativity right now, Levi.”

“I just asked you a question, Izzy.”

“ _Don’t_ call me that.”

“Fine,” I want to scream in agony. “Fine. Stay on your entitled fucking stool your whole life. I swear, it’s like you all get money and forget about anything less! I ask for one favor and you attack me as if I asked you for five thousand dollars! I asked you if you had a spare room. But thanks, now I know if I ever need to be told how _my_ life is going, I’ll be sure to call you and ninety-five percent of the other people I know as well.”

“I am not entit –“ I hang up. I don’t want to hear it anymore. I throw the phone onto the floor and lay back down on the couch. Some of my hair falls onto my bleeding lip, and I blow it away unconsciously. Scrunching my eyebrows, I wonder why I even bothered to call her in the first place. She hates me. Her husband hates me. Everyone does. What is the point? What is the reason?

Before I know it, I don’t get much sleep. My headache got worse, and all that keeps me awake is the alcoholic daze and soberness mixing together. The blanket covers make me feel hot then cold. Nothing feels right, and I end up in a dark place by the morning.

* * *

 

“So, when are you leaving?”

His mother hounds me the minute I walk upstairs and into the gorgeous kitchen. She has her hand on her hips, hair slicked back into a tight bun, makeup dusted on, yet pajamas on head to toe. She cocks her head at me and continues to walk into the enormous kitchen. I see breakfast on the table, steaming hot, and making my mouth water. I cross my arms and avert my attention. She probably wouldn’t let me have any either way.

“In a few minutes,” I respond simply. She nods her head and walks into the mini-living room. Slouching onto the couch, she crosses her legs and begins to watch the television nonchalantly. I’m hesitant to do anything. I stand awkwardly, disgustingly sober and hungover, wishing that maybe instead of alcohol to drink, I had a jackhammer to pound my head with. I begin to lean over the counter near the breakfast food. I reach my hand out slowly to grab one, suspicious on if Carla would notice.

“What are you doing?” I jump slightly but refuse to jerk back my hand. I look over and there stands the man of the hour – or my _entire life_ – with a countenance of confusion. There is slight anger hidden as well, and I wonder if he just wakes up angry every morning. I’m about to roll my eyes, annoyed at the fact he would be so upset that I was going to touch his food, and I almost sprout an insult before he addresses me. “Just eat something. Most of the time we waste all the food anyways.” He reaches over and grabs a piece of toast. Hanging it between his lips, he shuffles in his [suit ](https://www.express.com/clothing/men/slim-burgundy-cotton-sateen-suit-jacket/pro/04371921/color/BURGUNDY)and heads over to his mother watching television. He dresses slightly causal today compared to his previous outfits, and I’m sort of surprised at how normal he looks. Normal, as in, not _as_ angry and uptight as he usually looks.

“Wow, you look bright this morning!” Carla comments on his youthful looks optimistically. Jaeger raises his eyebrows, adjusts the suitcase in his hand, and tucks it under his arm. He runs his palm over his cheeks and gazes at his mother in curiosity. “You must have gotten some good sleep.”

“No, I tried a new morning routine.” He shrugs his shoulders and munches on the dry bread longer. “I tried that facemask shit. It had, like, cucumbers and stuff. I also meditated for an hour with this app called ‘ _Headspace’_. And I decided to dress a little casual today.” I try not to snoop in their conversation much, but even I’m surprised – and I don’t even know this guy well.

“What the hell…are you becoming a girl or something?” Carla barks out laughter and leans against the couch comfortably. “And doesn’t your work allow you to wear formal clothes?”

“That’s none of your concern.” He finishes the last of his bread and heads back over to the counter. I had finally mustered up the courage to grab a piece of bread and slather Nutella on it. I’m in the middle of adding bananas on the wheat when Jaeger walks up next to me. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a plastic box. Opening it, he begins to stuff fruit into the container.

Being as childish as I am, I purposely grab the fruit he reaches for. He doesn’t react and only reaches for others. I frown slightly and place my lathered toast onto the glass plate in front of me. Glaring at him, I cross my arms slowly. “You’re acting weird.” – I bluntly put. Jaeger looks up at me as if innocently, and shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. Be a new person. Doesn’t change anything, I’m leaving today anyway.” I huff out a sigh and grab my toast. I stuff it in my mouth, ignoring the Nutella that I feel on my nose and cheeks. I chew it softly and bask in the wonderful taste.

“Why?”

I look up at him once more, a frown appearing on my face. Is he fucking with me? “ _Why_? What do you mean, why?” I place the food down. “You’ve been waiting to kick me out for these entire twenty-four hours. Don’t act stupid now, asshole.”

“I’m _not_.” I can sense irritation coming off his voice. “If you want to stay here for a couple more nights, that is fine.” It sounds so forceful. Almost as if he disagrees with the words coming out of his own mouth. He doesn’t look me in the eyes and only begins to close the container for his fruit. “Eddy is already accustomed to my room anyway.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Carla comes out of nowhere – as per usual – with a look of displeasure. “You do realize you have another person living in this house, right?”

“And you realize this is _my_ house, right?”

 _Well, you can’t deny that._ I snap my mouth shut and innocently try to finish my toast as Carla glares at Jaeger as if he is a stranger. I scratch behind my ears and shuffle on my feet. I have a feeling I’m going to be in the middle of these arguments plenty if I stay here.

“Where is he going to stay, Eren? All the rooms upstairs are filled.”

“I’ll figure that out when the time comes. For right now, the basement is fine.” It was definitely useful last night. “I need to head to work now. I’ll see you.” The way he rushes out the house leaves us both slightly shocked. I lick my lips nonchalantly and lean against the counter. Carla adjusts her eyes to me and sighs. The only thing we have in common is the acknowledgment of Jaeger closing the front door, and the awkward silence that floats afterward. Carla grabs the tray of breakfast food and reaches for containers under the counter. As she does, she makes sure to glare at me and say –

“Wipe your mouth. You look like a child.” I do as I’m told, trying not to muster up a smart comment, and try to walk away from her presence. I need to find Eddy anyways. However, she stops me with a subtle grunt in the back of her throat. She gestures the food on the table and rolls her eyes. “You eat, you help pack away. It’s the least you can do while you mooch off of us.”

I want to grab the Nutella next to me, throw it at her, and shout types of profanity that would get me kicked out as fast as possible, but I know that is the least logical thing to do right now. If I was drunk, maybe. So, I help her pack away the food, and our thoughts probably consist of how to avoid each other as we will probably be spending the next few days together.

How fun.

* * *

 

You know how sometimes people say _‘new year, new me?_ ’ That was my thought process at three thirty in the morning as I looked up methods for a happier life on the internet. How original, I know. But after the stressful night thinking about work and how I was going to survive my double life as a writer, while also worrying about why the hell I found so much _elation_ in the late-night confrontation with Ackerman, it left me in awe of what the actual _fuck_ I’m going to do with my life.

It took over me around two in the morning. I was shuffling in the bed and I couldn’t sleep. Anxiety was pricking at me, making me worry about my next day at work and whether or not I would get fired. Then I began to worry about how behind I am on my novel. I haven’t been able to really sit down and write ever since the wedding, and it has been driving me up the fucking wall. Then I worried about Eddy because sometimes he would whimper in the small bed I made him, and I would have to turn on the light to check up on him.  Then I started to get mad at dad again, and the reasons are miles long, and then I got mad a mom, where the list is even longer.

Then I started to think about Ackerman. I started to think about the fight we had, and how releasing it was to have such a refreshing interaction. Then I thought about his eyes, and why they fluctuated from gray to blue so often. The heat from his nimble fingers when I drank out of his milkshake may have flew past my mind as well. Soon enough it was his nose’s smallness that drove me insane because I couldn’t understand why it fit his face so well. Then I contemplated about my favorite old black silk pajamas that I use to wear all the time before Mom accidentally ripped them. His mellow hair popped up in my mind.  I wondered how soft it was. Meditated on why his plum lips were so full, and I wondered how firm they were too.

I didn’t like where my mind was going. At all. It was odd and frankly, _disturbing_ to me. It showed up out of nowhere. I took a psychology class before in college that I depend on in odd moments like this, and I somewhat blame it on the emotions associated with him. I mean, he is simply associated with a happy moment I had. That is why I have happy thoughts about _him_. Or, more or less, intimate thoughts. Nothing more, nothing less. There is no other reason why I would be having _those_ kinds of thoughts about him.

But when I say it took over me, _it took over me_. In a way I didn’t want it to. I started to think about his mother, Kuchel, and why she didn’t take her son in. I wondered why he had so many underlying problems, such as alcoholism. I wondered why he likes parties so much, and why he loves Eddy so much. I wondered about his interests, his favorite food, his favorite drink, his favorite color, and everything sweet and candy. Sometimes it turned less than sweet and innocent, and I found myself thinking about things I would have never imagined myself to think about. It was uncontrollable. Eventually when I closed my eyes and _accidentally_ imagined _soft and pale skin rubbing against mine_ I -

It consumed me. Something is _wrong_ with me.

Where did this come from?

I jerked myself out of it around three. I got up, took a long hot shower, did a face mask, and massaged it in until my cheeks hurt. I left it on for about an hour as I researched ways to live a more fulfilling life, sparked by my disastrous lifestyle – which also included my odd thoughts about Ackerman. I downloaded apps for meditation, and actually found one that is quite soothing. I listened to it to get my thoughts out of its jumble, and I ended up falling asleep after the first session. I was thankful. The thoughts were gone.

You can call it a fanatic period, but all I wanted was to get my mind off the things that made me uncomfortable. Even if that included avoiding my problems. I just wanted to relax. Besides…the thoughts were gone.

“Well, don’t you look bubbly this morning.” Petra greets me with a soft grin. She holds my signature caffeine drink, full of whip cream and chocolate dribbles. I am hesitant to grab it, considering I decided to cut back on unhealthy eating as well, but I drink it anyways. I sip at it as Petra follows behind me to my office. “Nice suit by the way. It is _very_ different for you.”

“What, are you trying to get a raise or something?” I chuckle out. Petra rolls her eyes and follows after me as I enter my office. I place my suitcase on the desk and open it quickly. She stands before me, hands crossed over her abdomen as she waits for me to get settled. I sit down onto the chair and pull out my laptop. “Alright, update me.”

“All the associates are well. Moblit has been doing a fine job keeping everybody on task, along with me,” She tilts her head in her own praise. “Interns are doing good. Armin, your assigned intern, has officially been transferred to someone else.” I raise my eyebrow at the announcement and open my mouth with a backlash. “Mr. Smith also wants to speak to you.” Ah, the ball has dropped. “And he says this one is _mandatory_.”

“Got it. I’ll meet with him as soon as possible. Who has Mr. Arle-“

“Actually, he says he wants you in his office as soon as you get settled.” Petra cocks her hip and clicks the pen in her hand.

“He’s here?” Petra doesn’t even have to respond. Her face and posture say it all. No wonder she hasn’t been making smart comments yet. She just lets out a small smile and nods her head. “Ah, _fuck_.”

 

 

Hanji Zoe has to be one of the oddest and energetic floor managers I have ever had the pleasure of working with. They consistently batter me with emails about coffee dates, new sweepstakes, coupons for Olive Garden, and other shit that I have learned to forward to my spam folder. Of course, I check it often, because every so often they send an update on new policies and meetings for floor lawyers. However, other than that, I avoid them as much as possible.

It is somewhat unfortunate that I find them hanging out in Mr. Smith’s office, rambling about grocery shop prices and how their hair doesn’t like heat from flatirons. In the same instance, I want to thank them from the heavens and back because I don’t think I would have been able to handle to stressful atmosphere Mr. Smith would have forced me into.

“ _EREN_!? I haven’t seen you in forever!” Hanji gasps when they see me. They jump out of the comfy chair and give me a large hug. I want to push them away because though my suit is casual, it still cost a hefty amount of money. Hanji gives a small girlish giggle and pushes my shoulder when I look at them with a countenance of displeasure. “What are you up to? How is your mother? I love that woman. Me and Erwin were just talking about – “

“ – business.” Erwin Smith, the name that can send chills up my back more often than not, sits up from his hefty chair and clasps his hands together. “Just business, Dr. Jaeger.” He strolls from behind his desk, shoes clicking on the floor and a creepy looking smile tattooed on his face. I cringe inwardly and sigh. I do not want to deal with this shit so early in the morning.

I’ve only had a few meetings with Erwin Smith since I’ve started to work at the law firm at twenty-six. The first time was my interview, but that included him and a variety of other higher-ups as well. It had to be the most stressful time of my life, and all I remember from the time is Erwin Smith’s creepy ass smile facing me every time I spoke. I mean, I get that as a partner of the firm, you have to show some form of respect – but he can get downright _disturbing_ at times. Or maybe his corporate superman charm doesn’t work on me. Whatever it is, he isn’t my favorite person to talk to. And he wears the same cologne as me, which is also annoying. He also wears [signature suits](https://www.express.com/clothing/men/classic-gray-wool-blend-oxford-suit-pant/pro/03251768/color/GRAY), which usually consists of something gray and ugly, and his hair is always slicked back. He is somewhat cliché, and I wonder why he can’t buy something better looking with all the money he shits out of his ass.

“What isn’t business here?” Hanji belches out a laugh, interrupting my wondering thoughts. They grab their jacket on the chair near them and begin to place it on their body. “ _Anyways_ , I’ll leave you two. But check out the email I sent you!” They begin to whisper as if to avoid Mr. Smith yelling at them to get out. As a result of spending two years here, I’m already accustomed to Hanji and Mr. Smith’s odd friendship. “Red Lobster has some awesome coupons lately and I want to have a nice floor manager dinner! And I really, really, _really_ want some shrimp. Even though I’m kind of allergic, but it is just so good!” They wave their hand at me and pat my shoulder once more. “We’ll talk later!” They open the door to Erwin’s office. I open my mouth to administer a greeting to Mr. Smith, but Hanji interrupts once more. “No seriously, please look at that coupon and print it out because I’m like so ready for some delicious biscu –“

“Yes, yes, Hanji, I will look at the email.”

“ _YES_! Okay, Bye! Toodles!” They leave, finally, and the soft closure of the door becomes the signal for a greeting. I open my mouth to administer it, but Mr. Smith beats me to it.

“Please, take a seat.” He fiddles with his suit buttons and sits in his chair. He has no computer in front of him, only paperwork, and my head is consumed with thoughts of what he is going to say to me. But I digress, try to calm down, and remind myself that everything will be okay. I sit in the chair and cross my fingers together. I try to put on the brave front as much as possible, though I feel as if I’m putting everything on the line. Everything I’m so desperate to have but so wishful to get rid of as well.

“I’ve had the opportunity to work with Dr. Pixis, one of the partners as you may know, about editing the scheduling on the Smith Law Firm scheduling site. This, of course, is where many of the associates are able to view what days they work and the number of hours.” My face begins to contort in confusion, and I wonder where the fuck he is going with this. “Specific working days and hours are relatively the same each week for all associates, so it is something I do not look at often.” Mr. Smith fiddles with a pen in his hand. He leans back in his chair and scrutinizes me. I look at him directly, not wanting to seem vulnerable though he is one of my bosses.

“However, Pixis took a certain liking to edit a slightly old feature – associate updates. These are simple work evaluations, where floor managers –“ He gestures me slightly,” - are to administer updates on their associates’ performance. For example,” Mr. Smith holds up a paper in front of him. It is littered with markings and certain profile pictures I can’t identify from so far away. “Ms. Ral has been given an overall ninety-five percent grading on her performance at work. The percentages that make this total is dependent on attendance, work ethic, paperwork completion, leadership, and many other qualities. She was evaluated by _you_.” He places the paper down. “You are aware of this, no?”

“I am, sir.” It’s like he wants to tell me the evident for some hidden meaning. Associate updates are weekly evaluations that I improve as the week progresses. I do them unconsciously, often just degrading them to tally marks when I see an associate is late with paperwork or is goofing off. They are turned in at the end of the week and are substantially sent to my bosses for evaluation. This determines if associates are heading in the direction of probation or a raise. Evidently, my scores were pretty damn high when I first started working here. It is the main reason I was able to obtain this position at such a young age.

“Good, because Pixis has just recently added a new component to the associate updates. We call them – _senior_ evaluations.” He smirks slightly at the name. “These are evaluations from your own associates. We just started them two weeks ago, and I find them extremely useful. We receive typed assessments and answers to standard questionnaires about floor managers from associates. It lets us know our higher-up lawyers are doing their jobs, and the associates are happy with their leadership. _Dr_. Jaeger, I received your senior evaluations yesterday.”

Fuck me. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_.

“You have received a sixty percent total. Your lowest is attendance, where you hit a strikingly low thirty percent. Anything below an eighty percent at the firm is considered ethical probation.” Mr. Smith folds his hands on the desk. “Dr. Jaeger, I am aware you are an exemplary leader.  You have intelligence that many cannot compare to, and you have to be one of the headstrong lawyers I have ever come to known. However, saying this, you are the youngest as well.” Oh, great. Here comes _this_ old story. “I am hesitant to notify you because you are such a strong worker, but you are currently on demotion probation.”

“That is fine –“ I interrupt so quickly, I am sure Mr. Smith feels a slight shock. “I understand. I have been slacking on my work ethic and attendance. Personal matters have been hindering me, but I’ll be sure to show myself worthy.” It comes out unconsciously. I don’t even think about what I’m saying. “I’ll be sure to stay overtime today to finish up paperwork. Would it be any trouble to schedule a meeting once more next week?” What am I doing – kissing ass? “I would like to continue this conversation on a better note once I have gotten back on track.”

Mr. Smith looks at me as if a proud father. He was just about to offer a day to meet again as well, I would assume anyways. It feels like he is babysitting me, and it would feel less like so if I initiated the meeting instead. I want to roll my eyes and shake my head. He accepts contently and tells me to meet him a week from now, with hopefully better results and a clear mind. I nod, shake his hand roughly, and numbly make my way out of the like-wise dungeon.

I get back to my office and I don’t look at Petra once. I can hear her fingers stop on the laptop before her. I don’t look at anyone. They all see me as ineffectual anyways. It doesn’t matter. I lock the door to my office instead of leaving it propped open, and head over to my desk. I take out my paperwork, and I can’t even think. I just start to _work_. My hand moves in the same way according to memory, and I blank out after a few minutes. And I just write, and write, and write. I write what I don’t want to, and I write what I don’t have to. But I need to. My hands tense up after some moments, and I wonder how I was able to go through high school and college writing full-blown novels by hand. I make phone calls to some companies to relax the muscle, scheduling meetings, and instead of calling Petra to let her know about them, I email her instead. I don’t feel like talking to her – or anyone for that matter.

I feel bitter. Useless. Pessimistic. I’m not even angry, just disappointed. Maybe at myself because I let everyone down, or maybe because I have to get back into this fatiguing routine that I despise so much. I hate the way it makes me feel. I want to pull my hair out from the roots, but I know I have about a thousand papers to go through that I don’t even have time to grieve about my failure.

The worst part is that I know I’m just going to go home feeling the same way. It’s not going to get better. Mom’s going to yell at me about Ackerman and drive me up a wall. Then I’ll be working on papers all night, and I won’t have time to work on my novel. I’ll be so hungry afterward so I’ll just order pizza. Then my stomach will hurt because I’ll overeat to ease my depression. Then I’ll look at Eddy and have those… _thoughts_.

 _Those thoughts_. As I write a word on the ivory paper, my pen scratches upward and leaves an ink stain out of place. I scrunch my eyebrows, shuffle my feet, and let out a soft sigh. I begin writing once more and try not to get so lost in my fantasies again. I need to leave those in the books.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do y'all even like this shit. Lmao jk love you guys. Tell me what you think. We are finally getting somewhere after 8 chapters of a slow build. Proud of me? 
> 
> Also, just because I do too much, you guys should tell me your favorite songs in the comments. Idk, but I'm really old school and I feel as if all I listen to is Erykah Badu and Lauryn Hill. Any new suggestions?


	10. In The Front Yard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Eren and Levi connections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorryyy for the long wait. I had a family emergency and also packing for college is going nowhere. I like doing nothing ya know. Anyways, I realize I love figurative language. It fuels me.

I have a serious problem with stealing. Or, not so much stealing, but using and taking things without permission. What would you call that? Being an asshole? Probably, but when am I not that anyway?

Jaeger’s [room ](https://ibb.co/f855Qp)is shockingly…normal. Simple. Neat. Light. The bed is covered in silk beige covers with pristine tan pillows, and he has two comfy couches facing a middle glass table covered in flowers. His curtains are viridian silk cloths and give small glimpses of the cloudy sky. It almost looks like it is about to storm. His carpet feels like pillows under my bare feet, and it smells like cashmere wood air freshener. And I would know what that smells like because I’m poor and I use to live in a stinky ass apartment.

I notice he doesn’t have a television, if the broken old-school humpback one in the corner counts, and only has a traditional stereo on the floor near his bed. Scattered CD’s are around it, even some hidden under the bed, and extension cords are cluttered near it as well. I step slowly into the room and look left and right.

 _Eddy_. Right. I came in here for Eddy. I confidently walk into the room, making sure to close the door behind me before Carla decides to bitch at me again, and search for my wounded dog. I needed to change his bandages today and give him medicine. I can just hear Jaeger complaining now if I forgot.

“Eddy…” I tut my lips slowly. I can hear shuffling, and I look around the room to see where it came from. “Eddy?” A small whimper reaches my ear. I peer over at the bed and watch as Eddy pops his head out from under it. Silk sheets that flow over the floor cover his head, and he looks adorable as his tongue sticks out. His paws dig to crawl from under the bed, but I reach over and grab him before he can cause himself too much trouble. I notice his bandages are a healthy white and his fur looks slightly wet. I scoff when I realize Jaeger probably changed him instead, more than likely because he didn’t trust me. I guess I can’t blame him. I sit him on the bed and start to rub him behind his ears. “What are you doing, huh? Are you feeling better?” I rub his back and watch as he gets excited. I try and calm him down, but he can’t stop rubbing my side and whimpering. “I’ll get you some water, hold on.” I jump up off the bed and look around the room for the bathroom.

His [bathroom ](https://ibb.co/gPy1gU)smells like cologne. I figure this is where he gets ready. I scrunch my nose up at the familiar smell and cough. Jesus, does he drench himself in the shit? I wipe my nose and remind myself to complain about the scent later. It stinks and it is oddly nostalgic. I shake my head and gaze upon the gorgeous bathroom. What else should I expect? This isn’t surprising. Of course, it’s big as shit.

I ignore basking in the beauty of it and head to the chocolate accented counter and sink. It is full of products, ranging from hairspray and gel to face moisturizer. I notice circular packets stacked in a pile next to his lotion and grab one unconsciously.

 _Face masks_. I scoff and throw it down. I grab a round container and look at the wording once more. _Face masks_. How much does this guy have? I twist open the container and look at the gray coloring. “Ew, what the fuck,” I whisper to myself. I sniff it slightly and become surprised at the minty scent. I curl the sides of my lips down in openness and take my finger to scoop some out. Nonchalantly, I rub it on my cheeks. It begins to smell even better. “Hmm…” I hum in satisfaction. I grab a substantial amount and rub it onto my cheeks, chin, and forehead. I even put some on my neck. Shit, it smells so _fucking good_.

“This is mine.” I put the cap back on and stick it in my sweatpants pocket. I guess this is where my whole adventure kind of starts turning into _stealing_. I pick up a machine that vibrates, concerningly if I may say, and it has a bristle that spins. I press the button and place it on my cheek. It turns and turns, and I rub it across my face. The face mask mixes with it and lathers up slightly. After rubbing it across my entire face, I turn it off and rub the mask once more. I’m surprised at how soft my skin is, and my jaw slightly drops.

“What is this shit? This is fucking awesome.” I push the machine aside and look at other products. I find a thing called an ‘essence’ that smells like blackberries, and I decide to take that. I find another thing that smells like citrus, and I’m iffy about so I leave it alone. Soon enough, I pick up a container with no labels and open it to smell it. It smells like lemons, and I _hate_ lemons. I hate it so much that I throw it into the nearby trash can. “Fucking stinks.” I wipe my nose to get rid of the forbidden smell, and the scent brings me back to reality. _Eddy_.

He still lays on the bed calmly, tail wagging as he rests his head on his paw. He looks at me kind of crazy, and his tongue comes to lick at my chin. I jerk it away and remind myself that I still have the face mask on. “Don’t eat it.” I voice. I hand over a small plastic cup of water. Why Jaeger has mini-cups in his bathroom is beyond me. I watch as Eddy licks up the liquid and splashes some of it on the bed. I pet him as he does. “After this, we’ll go raid the Jaeger’s fridge for his food. I bet you’re hungry.” I smile when he looks up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. They unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

They remind me of the cobalt cornflowers that use to grow in my mother’s front yard. When we had a house, anyways. It was an apartment complex in rural Texas, the leftovers of drug dealers and others with suspicious occupations. I remember leaving from the front door to play in the rectangular field, surrounded by other apartment buildings and hidden under the shadows of willow trees. The small field, or front yard, often had broken glass, cigarette buds, and growing weeds that blossomed like crazy. The cornflowers were planted invasively, of course, and have grown ever since. They were pretty and bright. They smelled okay, but they were the only spark of color in our yard. My life had been full of gray before then.

I didn’t pick them. I would only touch them, and sometimes drench them in water because my mother told me that flowers love it. Though, she hated my habit of going into the front yard. She said it was dangerous because it did have broken glass and other dangerous objects for a kid my age, but I never listened. She told me someone could see me and snatch me up. I can remember her raspy voice when she'd leave for work, yelling from the front door - _"Levi, don't you go out into that front yard!"_   But when she traveled to work early in the morning and left me to my dues at home, I walked out into the front yard. The bruises and cuts were nothing I couldn't deal with as long as I had something to do. 

The flowers, the wasps, the flies, the crickets, and the squirrels kept me lively. Without much attention and the inability to attain objects such as toy cars or puzzles, I had to find something to fill my time. What better to do than watch ants break down breadcrumbs and travel them long distances? There wasn’t else to do either way.

My love for it kind of get lost now. I hardly have time for it anymore. Eddy brings me back a few years when I just look at him. It’s like they hold my home, my mother, the cobalt cornflowers and all. It only lasts for a few seconds though. It is the shortest moment before reality hits me like a punch in the face.

“Apples…bananas…strawberries… Jesus how much fruit do they have?” I murmur to myself as I fight through the large fridge full of what seems like a whole garden. Leafy greens pop out at every corner, and I am pretty sure I can name every fruit and vegetable just by the image. I tap my chin and pull out a bunch of food I know Eddy will like. As I do, Eddy jumps into the fridge and automatically munches on the first fruit he sees – blueberries. “Hey, loser – I have strawberries for you right here –“I back away from the fridge, but he decides to jump inside the fridge and dig into the container of blueberries. I sigh and place the fruit in my hand down on the counter. I leave him to it and open the plastic container for strawberries. I sprinkle a bunch of sugar on them from the container on the counter, and munch on them as Eddy raids the fridge.

Only when Eddy starts coughing I decide to take him away from his feast. He has dark purple stains around his mouth, and he continuously licks his nose that has remains of the fruit. I grab him and place him on the counter. The fridge shuts by itself. As I look up, Eddy has a content look in his eyes that makes me smile. “Fatty,” I whisper to him. I sit on the counter stool and grab another strawberry. Eddy watches me and begins to itch behind his ear with his hind legs. We stay there in silence for the longest time, the only sounds available becoming just my chewing and Eddy’s thick tail hitting the table.

“Would a meeting on Wednesday suffice? I have a coffee date with someone from Sina Corp on Tuesday.” Of course, the silence doesn’t last long, and Jaeger’s voice fills my ears way too quick for my liking. “Great. I will see you then and thank you for your patience.” All I can hear is the sound of shuffling after that. I try to ignore it and eat my strawberries, but Eddy begins to bark softly. Jaeger bursts into the kitchen looking frazzled, hair soaked and flat on his forehead. His jacket drips as it hangs off one shoulder. He glances at me for a second before placing his wet jacket onto the counter. I wonder why his face starts to contort in confusion, and then I remember I do have a bunch of –

“- shit on your face? You look ridiculous.” Jaeger interrupts my train of thought. He scowls at me slightly, and I wonder where his oh-so-nice façade went to. I scoff and chew on the rest of the fruit before answering.

“Like you look any better.” I gesture his appearance with my eyes. “Couldn’t find an umbrella, wise one?”

“Fuck off. I forgot to watch the news this morning.” He palms his hair back, giving a perfect view of his flawless skin and structured jawline. I linger on it for a few moments, either out of jealousy or admiration is unbeknownst to me. I finish up my snack, push it to the side and grab Eddy. He melts into my arms and wags his tail so quickly it almost starts to hurt my chest. Jaeger shakes his head at me and grabs his wet jacket. He walks in the direction of the stairwell, which makes me wonder why he adventured into the kitchen in the first place if his room was upstairs. I don’t question it, and only comfortably hold Eddy in my arms as I wait for Jaeger to leave so I could dominate his living room. Its been a while since I’ve watched _actual_ television.

“You look like a modern-day Paris Hilton.” Jaeger gives me a sly smirk as he walks away. I glare and shake my head.

“And you look like a depressed therapist with that wack ass turtle-neck.” I squint my eyes at him and jerk my chin. “Can you move it? I’d like to be away from your presence.”

“This is my house.”

“Uh, yeah, I get that you idiotically paid millions of dollars for a house that has rooms you don’t even use,” I start to walk toward the small living room. I patter down the two steps and set Eddy down onto the rectangular couch. “ – but you offered for me to stay. It’s entirely your fault.” It’s like I want to get kicked out.

Lo and behold, Jaeger just shakes his head at me, murmuring insults to himself, and strolls over to the staircase. I can hear his feet stomp, or harshly step, up to his room. I situate myself on the couch and grab the remote on the wooden table in front of me. I click one of the icons on the remote and watch as the flat screen television turns red. I scrunch up my eyes and watch as white lettering appears. “Netflix? Oh, I’ve heard of this…” I linger on the ‘s’ and tilt my head in interest. As it loads, I indulge in the other remotes surrounding me. One is rather small with only three buttons. I click one out of interest, and the entire living room and kitchen lights turn off.

Eddy barks immediately as darkness engulfs us. The television is the only light that lingers, and it illuminates our eyes as our attention becomes solely on the interesting technology. I look down at the remote that I now know controls lights and look over at Eddy. “Imagine being _that_ lazy.” I scoff and shake my head. I throw the remote back on the table and grab another remote. It has to be the biggest one, stretching my entire palm and holding a nice number of buttons. I see little pictures of stick figures laying down and other miscellaneous figures. I click one with squiggly lines. Nothing happens. I scrunch my eyebrows and click another button, and immediately the couch starts _vibrating_. _What the fuck_.

“What kind of mental shit is this?” I whisper as the couch vibrates softly. I lean back and become shocked when I feel a bump rubbing the crevice of my back. It digs into my spine, and I almost moaned at how good it kind of feels. I tilt my head back and lay on the couch’s board. I groan softly and melt into the massaging touch. “This is… _weird_ …” As the couch physically starts attacking my back, I fiddle with other remotes and randomly start pressing buttons. Eddy falls asleep at this point, eyes only opening when I move a considerable amount.

I find a television show to watch that involves cartoon characters with a sour sense of humor. It is oddly comforting to watch though. A few minutes into it, I remember I still have products on my face, and I go wash it off in the kitchen sink. My face feels tight afterward, but I ignore it and head back to the couch. I grab the huge set of covers folded at the edge of the couch and wrap it around my body.

During my parade of watching this television show and slowly becoming addicted, my feet start to get cold. My hands are shaking at this point, and I can feel my lips becoming chapped. I ignore it, shying it off as withdrawal symptoms, and continue watching the show. Soon enough, it becomes unbearable. My head begins to hurt and goosebumps travel all over my body.

I eventually get up and drink a wine cooler from the fridge. Well, about six. Jaeger has good options to choose from. Mango pineapple, coconut blueberry, strawberry daiquiri, watermelon, kiwi strawberry, etc. I feel a slight buzz and a complete urge to pee. I ignore it. I do it in the hopes my shiver will go away, but it only gets worse. My heart is pumping quickly, yet my body is sluggish. Oddly, there is heat below me, as if it is coming from the couch. I shake my head.

“Why the fuck is it so cold?” I wrap the cover around me more and look down at Eddy who sleeps peacefully. I shake my head. “Lucky bastard.” I contemplate on just forcing myself to sleep or heading up to ask Jaeger why _his million-dollar house_ couldn’t afford decent fucking heating. I focus on the latter and get up from the couch. Eddy jerks up from his sleep, droopy eyes making me reluctant to continue. I ignore it though and grab him from up under his belly. The covers are still wrapped around me, but I ignore that as well as I head up the stairwell.

When I reach Jaeger’s door, I pound it with my fist as hard as possible. I see a white light under the door, so I know he is awake. I cock my hip when he doesn’t answer after a few seconds. I knock once more, even harder, and even kick it. How dare he ignore me? Here I am, freezing my fucking balls off in his disappointing ass house with a puppy in my arms. I stand there for ten seconds, and I bring my hand up with the intention of busting a hole through the door, but Jaeger opens it just in time.

I never thought I’d see him more casual than this morning. Actually, I don’t think I would have ever imagined him to be the type to wear _this_. He seems like the _‘silk matching pajamas that cost twelve hundred dollars’_ type of guy. Instead, he wears a gross bright [yellow ](https://www.zumiez.com/ain-t-nobody-cool-anime-mouth-yellow-t-shirt.html)shirt with the shape of a mouth on it. His [pants ](https://www.theharvardshop.com/products/harvard-sweatpants)are even uglier with its burgundy color and the cringe wording of ‘Harvard’ running down his leg. I want to tell him to go change and put on a suit because that’s really all he can look good in, but I refrain because I know I don’t look any better.

“What do you want?” I finally follow my view to his face, and I become even more shocked when I see a pair of glasses. Are you _serious_? “What?” I try and snap out of it.

“Your house is colder than a polar bear’s underbelly, and I cannot fucking handle it anymore.” I assert quickly. Jaeger raises his eyebrows and looks around his house as if he can _see_ coldness. _Idiot_.

“The hell do you mean? Heating is just fine.”

“Well, obviously it isn’t because my balls probably have huge icicles growing on them as we speak.”

“Can you _not_ for once in your life?”

“What?” I shrug and grab the door from Jaeger’s hold. A hint of warmth flows from his room, and I bask in it immediately. I open his door and forcefully step my way into his room. He opens his mouth to administer a complaint, but the minute I slam the door closed and make my way to his bed, he shakes his head and walks over to his nightstand. I watch him grab a phone and dial a number. I chuckle softly. “Is that new? How cute.”

“Fuck off.” He mutters to me. He holds the phone to his ear and paces around his room. I place Eddy onto the bed and sigh. I turn to look behind me and see his laptop open for public view. I lean over to peek at what he is doing. The soft breeze that follows the slam of his laptop hits my face, and I gaze up to see Jaeger glaring at me as he moves his computer away from me. I roll my eyes and rub my arms to warm up.

“Mom…where are you?” _Of course_ , he would call his mother. “Do you know if the furnace has been acting up lately? Lev – _Ackerman_ says the whole downstairs is freezing.” I whistle softly and wait for them to finish. “What? No, I just paid the damn bill. My room is just fine – I use heaters…. Where the hell are you?” I try and not look at his face as his voice rasps a bit. “Whatever. I’m hanging up.” He throws the phone onto the bed and rubs his palms down his face. “Fuck me….”

“I’ll take the couch.” I lift myself off his comfy bed and walk over to his loveseat. I lay down on it and let out a relaxing sigh. “Your room is oddly apartment-like for such an expensive ass place.” I rub my nose and hang my head off the armrest. Jaeger stands there glaring at me. His glasses hang off his nose, and he looks completely ridiculous with his clown-like get up on. I swallow down a chuckle. “I’m not _that_ bad to have as a roommate. I don’t fart or anything.”

“Just…be quiet. I have paperwork to finish and I really don’t need this right now.” He heads over to his bed and sits down. He lifts his legs and places his laptop on his lap. By then, I notice the fuckton of papers scattered all over the right side of his bed and on his pillows. I bite my lip and wiggle my foot. “By the way, you smell like alcohol and strawberries. It’s not comforting at all.”

“I had, like, ten wine coolers.”

“Great. You’re in my room and you’re drunk. Perfect.”

“I don’t get drunk off coolers, asshole.” I roll my eyes and wiggle my foot faster. “Too far gone for that. Tequila, however, would be great right about now.”

“I’m aware.” Jaeger scoffs and shuffles papers in his hands. “I’ve had the unfortunate experience of dealing with your ass after shots of Tequila. Is it only Tequila that does that shit, or are you just mental?” He says it in a joking type of way, but I nod unconsciously.

“Duh, idiot. Tequila makes people happy.” I chuckle at the thought. “But…wine makes my stomach hurt. Bourdon gives me gas. Scotch makes me sleepy. Rum gives me a lot of energy, and Vodka just fucks me up. Like, I never remember anything with that shit.” I begin babbling. The wine coolers evidently made me a chatterbox. “The rest gets lost. I end up with the same result, so it doesn’t really matter.” Jaeger doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. All I can hear are his fingers tapping at the keyboard. Eventually, he speaks.

“I hate hard alcohol. I’d rather drink something that tastes like pineapples and get wasted that way.”

“You’re just weak.” I laugh and shuffle on the couch. “I like the _burn_ and how gross it tastes. It keeps me alive.” I say this to just make Jaeger recoil, but I know it is vastly true.

“You have fucking issues.”

“Mhm, I know.” I rub my face against the couch armrest. I hum and rub my legs together to generate warmth. “By the way, you look gay as shit with that outfit. You homo.”

“What the fuck –“ Jaeger finally looks up from his laptop to glare me. I hide my smirk from under the covers. Jaeger squints his eyes and tries to get a glimpse of my hidden face. “I _don’t_. My pajamas are washing. This is all I had!”

“You look like a gay hippy who sells weed and wants to make a business selling tie-dye leggings. You also look like you have a boyfriend who is straight but kind of gay but the straight kind of gay. The type of gay that makes you straight, but also gay. You know?” Jaeger just stares at me as if branches grew from my forehead and made a garden. I shrug my shoulders and hum to myself. “No?”

“Stop talking to me.”

“Did you really go to Harvard?” I don’t. I can’t help it, I get talkative when I have a few drinks in me. Jaeger sighs and rubs his temples with his fingers. “How did it feel being surrounded by prissy white guys all your college career?”

“Do you ever shut up? And yes, I went to Harvard. Now _shut up_. I have work to do.”

“…Thanks for letting me stay here.” – it comes out accidentally. My eyes are becoming hooded from sleepiness, and my mind is jumbled with a bunch of thoughts. It is no surprise it comes out. I lick my lips and stare at the ceiling above me. The windows near me start to rattle, and small droplets of rain begin to pour on the glass. I glance over and stare. The moon shimmers a small light before being covered with a dark gray cloud. I squint my eyes and focus on the fading light until everything around me disappears. I let out a soft breath. “I’d probably be out there…in the front yard.” What am I blabbering about this time?  

Jaeger resumes typing as if ignoring my declaration. I am somewhat glad that he is. I turn my head away from the storm happening outside and shuffle under the covers. The room loses its natural lighting, and Jaeger’s face is illuminated by his laptop. He bites his lip as he types intensely on the computer. I wonder what he is doing that makes him so concentrated. I blink and watch him for a few minutes. I feel like a stalker, so I speak up to break the awkwardness. “D’you hear me, loser?” I slur. I watch Jaeger shake his head and lift it up. His eyes meet mine, and I admire the viridescent glint connecting with my gunmetal orbs. I blink. He raises his eyebrow and averts.

“You are such a smart ass.” He murmurs. He returns to his work. I smirk slightly and cuddle the covers.

“I’ve been told.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a tad bit of writer's block getting this out. I was clueless about what I wanted to do with Levi's perspective, then I was like ....facemasks. Ah. Facemasks. 
> 
> Next chapter...Eren and Levi go grocery shopping! See you then!


	11. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burrrnnnn *pitch increases exceptionally*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy guyysss, I'm back with another chapter with Eren and Levi arguing like a married couple every two seconds. This chapter is kind of a filler to build up context behind the next chapter, where emotions finally start emerging and being shown. I'm excited!
> 
> heads up: there is drug use in this chapter. oopps *adds to tags*

Ackerman sleeps buried under the covers like a dead man. It passes by my mind that he is still present in my room around four in the morning. I decide to start playing soothing music from my laptop, hoping it will pacify my rambunctious thoughts. He shuffles on the couch, a soft groan escaping his lips, and becomes motionless the rest of the night. I turn down the music at that point and follow through to complete my paperwork. The stacks get smaller and smaller, and as they do I can feel my mind slowly reaching clarity. I’m content that I have finally glided into the weekend. I’ve already completed associate updates, earlier than I usually do, leaving me to relax these two days. I run my hand through my damp hair from the shower and crack my tense knuckles unconsciously. The bones cry and scream for a moment of relaxation, but I ignore it and try my best to complete the rest of my work full through. Stress is easing its way into my mind, but the music lowly playing from my laptop finds a way to fight it. I’ve been playing it on repeat.

 _“It ain't no Backwoods on this side of town, wanna ride with me to get some more?”_ I don’t even listen to the lyrics, but just the mellow beat in the background. I steady my fingers every so often, just taking a breath, and continue on. _“Pick a couple of Wild Irish Roses…”_

At six-thirty, the morning sun peeks through my windows to check up on me. I wipe my eyes and take off my prescription glasses. Placing them on the nightstand, my fingers clutch the cold metal of my laptop as I close it softly. The sense of fulfillment I get from it almost gives me butterflies, and I can feel the slightest bit of sanguine. I lift myself out of the bed, my bones itching for some sort of exercise and a timely massage and make my way to the bathroom to take a quick bath. That should relax my bones for a few minutes.

I run the bathwater and search for my clothing for today. Fitting black slacks catch my eye, and I decide to pair it with a gray sweater vest over a white button up. As I place it on my bathroom counter, my clothes begin to shed off. They fall to the floor in a way that reminds me of flower petals, or maybe I’m just deprived of sleep so I’m thinking crazy things. I enter the bath full of essential oils and a burgundy bath bomb. Sighing softly as I bathe in the water, my head lays onto the porcelain. The steaming hot water soothes my muscles, and my body rejuvenates slightly despite not having a lick of sleep. I spend about an hour relaxing. All I can hear is the small sound of water droplets falling from my hair and the slight echo of the music still playing on my laptop. I remember it continues to play music after being closed, and though it can be irritating at the wrong times, I am thankful for it now. It adds a certain serenity to my morning routine.

I get out about twenty minutes after an hour. My hands rub lavender lotion over my body, because dry skin is the devil according to self-care professionals, and I carefully place on my clothes. I walk out of the bathroom feeling refreshed and oddly optimistic. I remind myself to drink two cups of sugary coffee before I head out to solidify my definition of a ‘perfect morning.’

Often, weekends are grocery days. Or on really nice days, they turn into shopping sprees. They are my _me-times_ , and I usually end it all by dining at a fancy restaurant. It helps when you live a miserable life, you know.

 _“Second stop we done made, can't find no Woods and it's gettin' late, I might just pull over,”_ I throw on a silver watch and buckle it up. As I do, I look around my room for my cologne. _“Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm.”_

“Do you always play music in the morning?” I jerk my head from peering around the room to Ackerman. He sits up on the couch, hair stuck up in directions like a punk-rock kid and wipes the dried drool from the bottom of his lip. He scrunches his face up and places his hand on his back in pain. “My back hurts.”

“No.” I nonchalantly reply. I’m still shocked at myself for even letting him sleep in my room. I should have kicked him out and told him to sleep downstairs anyways. I shake my head and try to reduce the thoughts. I can’t change the past. “I’ll have someone come in today and look at the heat –“

“Besides the fact my back hurts like shit, your couch is really comfortable.” Ackerman runs his hands on the beige couch. He wipes his eyes with his other hand and yawns. “I’ve never slept on anything this comfortable. Your couch in the basement is one thing, but this one is unreal.” He sits up off the couch as he speaks. I walk over to my nightstand to grab my wallet, and as I do I notice familiar items on my couch.

“Is that –“ I walk over to the couch quickly and grab a product I’m pretty sure is fucking _mine_. I look at the facemask product in my hand and glance over at Ackerman. He gazes at me with a look that could be considered complete puppy eyes or a _‘what are you going to do?’_ countenance. I guess it really depends on how you interpret him. For me, I was completely stuck in the middle. I open my mouth to administer a reprimand, but Ackerman stops me.

“Oh, that’s why my back hurts…”

“You stole my products? Wait, wait – you’ve been in my _room_?” I don’t mean for my voice to rise in pitch. “What is _wrong_ with you? Do I need to start locking my bedroom door now?” I shake my head and start grabbing the rest of the products on the couch.

“I thought you knew. Where else would I get a facemask, you idiot.” And he still demeans me. I rub the space between my eyes and cuddle my products in the crevice of my elbow. Ackerman scratches the back of his head and rubs his hands over his face. “By the way, I don’t know which one it was because I pretty much slapped all of them on my face, but one of those made my skin really soft. I feel kind of rich.”

“Good luck finding out because these are thousand-dollar masks!” I grab a jar and stare at it. “- and this isn’t even a mask! It’s _La Mer_ moisturizing cream, and it cost me two thousand dollars!” I scoff. “I invite you into my room out of a certain hospitality, but you’ve already raided my room. It shows a lot of how you are.” I run into the bathroom to return my stuff like a teenager storming to their room. I throw it onto the counter and rub my hands over my face. My thoughts are rampaging, throwing me ideas as I try to calm down _. He has to go. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t_.

I grab my pajama clothes off the bathroom counter and head into my bedroom. I throw them onto my bed with the intention of getting back into them when I get home. Ackerman looks at me from the couch, hair still a mess and eyes still reminding me too much of his own dog. I almost stutter, but I let it out as calmly as possible. “Listen, I don’t think this is work –“

“That watch is hideous.” I scrunch up my eyebrows at his comment. I expected anything but that. I look down at my silver watch and turn my wrist in different ways. Ackerman shakes his head. “Gold would look better on your skin tone, but I don’t expect a doofus like you to know that. Also, that vest looks like my grandma made it.” He tuts his lips after. “Well, I don’t know my grandma, but if I did, she would knit that. Even though I hear from mom that she only had nine fingers.”

“Why –“ I look up at the ceiling in frustration. “- do you always say the weirdest shit? How is this going to work out? You are completely fucking nuts.”

“I was just making conversation.” He gets up from the couch and begins to stretch. “Where are you going? I’m going with you. I’ve been trapped in this house and I can’t live with it anymore.” I shake my head in response and start to untwist my watch unconsciously.

“You are not coming with me. I have things to do, such as groceries and other adult stuff.”

“Wow, thanks for reducing me to a child.”

“Isn’t that what you are?” I place the watch back onto my nightstand and open my drawer to reveal a stash of them that I’m too lazy to put in my closet. “You’re not coming.”

“I’m gonna wear these ugly shits.” He picks up my pajamas and begins chuckling. “They would probably look better on me though. You just look ugly in everything that is not a suit.”

“I said –“ I grab my clothes from his hands and give him a deadly glare. “You are _not_ coming,” He looks back at me, eyes holding nothing but amusement, and tilts his head at me. He walks close up to me until we are face to face, if not closer than we were when he let me have a sip of his milkshake in the car.

That sounded wrong, wait -

“Listen Jaeger, I understand that you enjoy being the alpha male of a household you hardly get to dominate, because your mother makes you kiss her ass every day, and that you have serious anger problems that you love to portray on me, but I am _not_ the one.” Ackerman cocks his hip in the way that reminds me of a reprimanding girlfriend. I kick the thought out of my head **_immediately_**. “ _You_ told me I can stay here. _You_ told me that it is okay. I am thankful, but I am not thankful for your asshole attitude. What – do we need to have another food fight or something? We had a nice time then…” He swings his hand at me and shakes his head. “Anyways, do you have a toothbrush? I haven’t brushed my teeth in, like, two days.”

He has a mole under his eye that is so small that it is easily hidden by his creases. I stare at it the entire time he talks to me. I don’t know why. He also has blackheads on his nose. This is the first time he has ever been so close to my face. My brain is screaming ‘code red’ and tells me to back up. My gut urges me to keep looking, maybe respond, maybe just ignore it. My brain persuades me to yell, as it always does, and tell him to fuck off. My gut cuts out heart-shaped butterflies.

… _heart-shaped butterflies_ , what the fuck? I am high as _hell_.

“I have an extra in the cabinet. Do not steal any of my shit.” I muster up. Ackerman nods his head and strolls to the bathroom as if it is his room. I lift my hand and rub my forehead in confusion. That didn’t happen. It’s just a phase. That didn’t happen.

What does this even mean?

He dresses up in my pajama clothes as if that didn’t make it worse. The pants hang off his hips so much he has to pull them up every time he walks. He ends up grabbing one of my belts on the floor and wrapping it tightly around his waist. Only then do I notice the effects of his previous lifestyle and how skinny he actually was. Well, his waist anyways. His thighs hold the remains of real muscle, obviously thicker than normal and showing he must run or walk plenty. I watch as he shuffles with the pajama pants with a frown on my face. How much does he even eat a day anyway?

“Got it.” Ackerman lets his shirt flow over the belt and looks back up at me. The bright yellow shirt actually doesn’t look that bad against his skin color. Yet, he wears his same old cheap, torn-up shoes, and it only fuels my thoughts even more. Has he had a bath yet? Does he have any clothes for himself? “We can leave Eddy here. He does well on his own, and I refilled his bowls and stuff.” I refrain from answering. I shuffle the keys in my hands and begin walking toward my bedroom door.

The minute we walk into my garage, Ackerman’s jaw drops. His gasp echoes the area, and I look back at him only a couple times. “How many fucking cars do you have?” He stares at the solid four cars in the garage. One is my mothers, the mini coupe, which I still stay away from because of my memories of the marriage. The second is the very first car I got with my money from the firm, a Mercedes. It’s a pretty simple flaxen color and is probably what I drive the least. The third is my Tesla – my main car. Lastly is my gorgeous [Bentley](https://www.autozqa.com/cars/bentley-continental-gtc/), who is only driven by me and seldom as well. I contemplate on if I really want to take her, my precious _Barnaby_ , with such a lunatic such as Ackerman. I shake my head and tell myself that it’s okay. I _always_ drive my Bentley on weekends. I have to, it’s apart of my self-care routine.

The minute I walk up to the three-hundred-thousand-dollar car, Levi gazes at it with fascination. “You know, your dad has a Bentley too. They are nice as hell.” He grabs the handle to the door for the passenger seat and slowly opens it. “Is that a thing for you guys, matching cars? How _cute_.” I roll my eyes at him and jump into the driver’s seat.

“Actually, no. He doesn’t know. I got it instinctively –“ I buckle myself up quickly. “ – it was supposed to be cute, but then it turns out I still hate him, so it doesn’t matter.” I refrain from continuing. He doesn’t need to hear me rant. He probably wouldn’t even listen anyways.

“Well, if you ever get sick of being rich and hate this car, I’ll be getting my drivers license soon.” Ackerman gives me a sly smirk, and I wonder if he is drunk already. I expect usual asshole-ness out of him, not corny humor. I avert my eyes, and the soft purr of the car signals the start of this ambiguous day.

The remains of the storm last night are unnoticeable. The sky is a vibrant blue only, with no ivory or gray clouds, and steams the sun on us ruthlessly. I eventually turn the car into a drop top, ignoring Ackerman who once more can’t control his inevitable complaints and excitement. The air flows through our bodies, especially once we hit the highway. Ackerman looks like a dog, with his head nearly out the car and seatbelt digging into his shoulder. In the mist of his thrill, I slide on a pair of glasses to shield myself from the sun and start fiddling with radio stations on my wheel. Eventually, Ackerman sits back in his seat and looks over at me with slight amusement.

“What, you think you’re hot shit with these sunglasses?” I scrunch up my eyebrows and switch my foot on the brake when we hit a rush of still cars. I would get on the highway during morning rush hour. “Give me some.” He holds out his hand like he is entitled to be protected visually. Luckily, I don’t feel like arguing, so I point to the glove compartment. He opens it and is shown a whole area full of sunglasses. He pulls some out and places them on his lap. His instigation steals my attention for a bit, especially because traffic is slow. I notice Ackerman’s face looks bummed out as he views the glasses.

“What?” I question, looking over at the types of glasses he has. Ackerman shakes his head and inspects one pair of glasses I remember my father gave me. They cost him three hundred dollars, and here Ackerman scrutinizes it like it’s a worthless three bucks.

“These are _ugly_. I feel like you need a wardrobe reevaluation.”

“Those cost three-hundred dollars,” I say with a scoff and pointing to them unconsciously.

“You have a habit of price dropping. Just because it cost a lot of money doesn’t mean they are good looking.” He throws them back into the glove compartment, along with the rest of the glasses. “God, have you ever owned anything decent that’s normally priced?”

“Normally priced?” I question. “Of course I have! But there is no point in buying the shit anymore if I have money for stuff with higher quality.”

“When I had my apartment,” Ackerman leans back in his seat and looks over at me. “I once had these pair of sunglasses that I bought for twelve dollars. I’ve had them for three years and they have not broken once. I’ve even got punched in the face, twice, with them on.” He widens his eyes at his example. “And I got them from the thrift store.”

“I _wish_ I would step a foot in a thrift store.” I laugh out. The traffic clears up a tiny bit, and I’m finally able to press down on the gas to get at a higher speed. Ackerman lets out an elongated ‘wow’ at my response and wipes his face. “No, seriously. Those places are fucking gross.”

“You are such an entitled ass.” He doesn’t say it as insulting as I would assume. Before I can respond, Ackerman slams the glove compartment closed. “Have you ever owned a pair of jeans? Tell the truth.” In Jersey, all people did was wear jeans and cargo shorts. So, of course, I’ve owned a pair of jeans. Since I’ve moved to New York? Not so much. I avert my eyes to look into Ackerman’s. He cocks his head in the most condescending way. I don’t answer. “I _thought_ so. Where are we going anyways?” He turns his attention to the radio and begins switching for songs.

“The mall for groceries and somewhere else to shop for a new suit.” Ackerman stares at me like I’m crazy. I roll my eyes under my sunglasses. “The mall has a small grocery store I like to go to that sells some good organic food. It’s pretty – ugh, _listen_ I don’t have to explain myself to you! You aren’t even supposed to be here!” I get frustrated at his face that continuously conforms with my words. His countenance showing judgment makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to being judged much, as egotistical as that sounds.

“I was just asking.”

“Stop looking at me like that!” I slide my sunglasses up off my face and give him a side eye. “Like I’m weird for doing this shit. I have money and I’m going to use it! What do you expect me to do, turn it into toilet paper and wipe my ass with it?”

“ _That_ would be interesting. If you are going to spend it on useless shit, you might as well hit rock bottom too.”

“Stop talking to me. I’m seconds away from saying ‘fuck you’ and dropping you off at the nearest gas station. Okay?”

From the corner of my eye, I can see Ackerman hiding a sly grin with twinkling eyes. I have the sudden thought that maybe he _enjoys_ messing with me. He looks over to stare outside, but his high cheekbones are good indicators of a smile. I shake my head, take a deep breath, and pray that I won’t have to deal with him for much longer.

 

 _‘You waste money,’_ He said. _‘You are so expensive,’_ He told. So, tell me why the fuck do I come back from grabbing milk to see my cart almost halfway full of shit that _isn’t_ even mine? Oh, but I waste money?

“What the fuck is this?” I place the milk into the cart full of chips, candy, frozen packages of hash browns, wine coolers, and much more shit. Ackerman turns his head from looking into the freezer with two tubs of vanilla ice cream. “Hey! Put that shit back! All of this – I am not getting this!”

“ _What_?” Ackerman almost shouts. He sets the ice cream into the cart and looks at me like I’m crazy for saying no. “What do you mean, you are not getting this? These are all fucking essentials. I’m just trying to help you get your wack ass household into a nicer spot.” He points to the three bags of Dorito chips pushed against the corner of the cart. “You didn’t have one bag of chips in your house, and that is a disappointment.”

“Yeah, because I’m healthy and trying not to die from the chemicals they put in my food. Thank you very fucking much.” I grab the ice cream in the cart and push it into his chest. “Put it back, now.”

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“Why do I feel like I am reprimanding a child? Ackerman, but the ice cream fucking back. I’m on a diet!”

“Why, you are fit as fuck!” Ackerman’s eyebrows scrunch up so much it almost looks like he has a unibrow. I find it amusing. “It’s always you motherfuckers who go to the gym and claim to be on a diet! Look, I’m literally a twig!” He gestures his arms that are in fact very thin. “I need to fatten up if you haven’t noticed with your big ass biceps and muscular thighs!” He throws the ice cream into the cart and pushes me out the way. “Get out of the way. I’m going to the meat area. I’m mad now.” Ackerman sassily makes his way down the aisle. I stand there wondering why the fuck I agreed to this. Why, why, _why, **why**_.

I end up heading into the organic aisle. I grab a bunch on protein bars, peanuts, and powdered shakes. I look at the ingredients as I head into the meat area for Ackerman. As I read the ingredients for the powdered shakes, I unconsciously listen to the conversation near me.

“Aye, I’m tryna sell some food stamps too. You got me?” I lift my head at the sound. I glance up to see a strange man leaning up next to Ackerman. He wears dark blue jeans and a large jacket with full pockets. I notice he pulls out pieces of paper and holds it in front of Ackerman. Ackerman looks down at it and shakes his head. I could have sworn we made eye contact, and that is when I hear Ackerman’s next line.

“This meat is really cheap for being steak, you know.” He says it so normally that it wouldn’t be a surprise if some people assumed he knew this man. I step up beside him and look the stranger in his eyes. He smells odd, something I can’t place a name to. He nods his head at Ackerman and leans up off the wall next to him. Before I can ask him who he was, he walks off in the opposite direction. I scrunch up my eyebrows and peer down at Ackerman, who innocently gazes at the meat as if the interaction didn’t happen.

“Did you know him? He looked suspicious…” I slowly let out. Ackerman grabs the meat and places it into the cart.

“Nope. He was just trying to sell me drugs.” He says it sarcastically. I roll my eyes and place my items back into the cart.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” I head to the back of the cart and grip the handles. “Stop grabbing shit and let’s go. I don’t want to be here all day.”

Ackerman hikes twenty dollars up on my groceries when we reach the check-out line. He grabs a pack of gum, a lighter (I don’t question it at this point), two sodas, and other miscellaneous items I don’t bother focusing on. The cashier rings up the final item and almost whispers out the total to me. Ackerman doesn’t pay attention to the exchange until he hears the total.

“That will be seven hundre –“

“Jesus fucking anal.”

“ -d dollars and thirty-two cents.” The cashier looks at Ackerman like he is crazy. Ackerman stares at the cart full of grocery bags in shock. “Debit or credit?”

“Debit, ma’am.” I hand her my card and ignore Ackerman who still hasn’t recovered from the amount it totaled up to. I put in my pin and wait for a receipt. Once she hands it to me, I push it into my pant’s pocket and thank her. I push the cart forward and head for the exit. Once I place the groceries into the car and I head for the driver’s seat, Ackerman calls out to me.

“I need to use the bathroom.” He says it awkwardly. I scrunch my eyebrows at him and shake my head. “It might be shit.”

“What the fuck, I don’t need to know that. Go!” I get into the car with a long sigh and slam the door closed. I watch Ackerman walk into the mall through a department store instead of the grocery store. I wipe my eyes and start the car up to get some air going. The radio begins to play some annoying pop songs, and I remind myself to get my music discs from the mini coupe when I get home. I pull out my phone and begin playing a stupid game for five minutes.

Then ten minutes pass, and I start getting impatient. I continuously look at the entrance to the department store for his figure. The twenty mark passes by quickly because I get invested in an email, and once thirty minutes pass by, I’m terribly irritated. Then thirty-five minutes hit, and I prepare myself to go into the mall and start slamming stalls. I rub my forehead and groan out loud. Around forty-two minutes, the door to the Bentley finally opens, and Ackerman slides in so slowly I wonder if his ass hurts _that_ much.

Then the smell hits me. But this time, it hits hard. Once again, it is oddly familiar. I stare at him for a moment. He doesn’t make eye contact with me at all. He puts on his seatbelt and licks his lips several times. Surprisingly, he doesn’t notice my staring. I scrunch up my eyebrows and watch as he tries to stay still as possible.

“Are we…are we going?” He slurs out. He grabs the handle and looks into the side mirror for confirmation. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and I’m met with white that is tinted with red and hazy pupils. My jaw drops, and I almost want to scream at the fact he made me wait almost forty-five minutes so he could –

“Are you fucking _high_?”

“Oh, my god.” Ackerman lets out like he was holding his breath. “I _swear_ I’m not.”

“I can’t. _I can’t_. How the fuck- where the fuck –“ I start stuttering. For some reason, this man seems to leave me **speechless** every fucking day, and I don’t know for how long I’ll be able to handle each one. “Where did you find weed at? What the fuck? It’s illegal here, don’t you know? Did you smoke it in the restroom? Are you _dumb_?”

“I did not.” He responds to none of my questions with that answer. “I’m not. It hasn’t even hit yet. I’m fine. Let’s go, um, where are we going?” He rubs his eyes nonchalantly.  “We should go back in the mall. They had some cool stuff.”

“I cannot take you to a fucking suit shop like this. I can’t take you home either. Mom is home on weekends and she will smell that shit on you!” I place my hand on my forehead. I can imagine the shit-storm she will start if I brought home a high house guest. “ – and you fucking stink! Get out of the car.” I open my door and jump out. Ackerman follows my lead, albeit slow as hell, and closes the door like it is glass. We stand there awkwardly. Ackerman shuffles on his feet, opens his mouth and closes it.

“Usually walking it off will get rid of the smell. It’ll probably sober me up, you know, man.” Did he just call me man? I shake my head in disbelief and walk over to the passenger seat. I open the door, grab a pair of sunglasses, and push them in Ackerman’s chest. “Wha –“

“Wear these. You even look blazed.” I dig my hands into my pockets and start walking. I halt for a second, watching as Ackerman tries his best to walk at my pace. I grab his elbow and lead him to the mall. I can almost smell the regret coming off on me for bringing him. I should have known he would have pulled this type of shit. He is nothing but a god-damn troublemaker.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't wait to post the next chapter :)


	12. Curiosity Made The Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning #1: the description of Harvard in this story is completely fabricated. It is not true and I only use it for context purposes. Therefore, don't sue me, thanks ya know.  
> warning #2: drug use, drug use, drug use!  
> warning #3: these characters are OOC (though it is a story...so of course they are) but just so you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I genuinely thought no one liked this story so I stopped updating....then while I was waiting for my next class to start on campus, I started finishing up this chapter after writer's block and ended up writing 2 extra chapters? amazing. 
> 
> but imma update anyways, cuz that's just how I am. *insert that one meme and if you don't know it I feel so bad for you*

“Eren, you wanna hit this?”

The friends I made at Harvard were either nerds or drug addicts. There was no in between for me – a student who transferred from a small liberal arts college in Illinois. My roommates popped pills while they studied for four exams the same night, sweating in their cotton signature burgundy sweaters because they were obsessed with showing off their college’s name. I, however, wore old Cardinal shirts and cargo shorts at the time, because I was already penniless and couldn’t afford a hundred-dollar sweater.

I got used to seeing empty Adderall pills in the community bathroom. I got used to walking in my dorm to see my roommates blazing it up, faces practically sticking out the window to make sure the smoke didn’t set off the fire alarm. I got used to them offering me some every day because they couldn’t stand to see someone headstrong through it all. I declined most offers made by students on campus. It seemed like they all had the same issues, and all found that chewing pills with their grimy teeth would soothe the stress and help them focus on things that didn’t even matter – such as the next Calculus test or finishing up essays. 

I had three roommates. They all looked the same in my opinion. Pale-skin with brown or blonde hair. They wore nice clothes and had no imperfections. They were a complete contrast to me, in which I held skin darker than theirs with scars, acne, and moles. I wore the same clothes I went to class to sleep, while they had different outfits for every activity. They spent hours in the bathroom perfecting their hair and washing their faces with expensive face products. They would get mad at me for simple stuff, like me touching their shampoo.  _It is too expensive to be tattered with_ , they said,  _by someone like you_. At that time, I only washed my hair with a product once every two weeks because I feared running out. I had bills to pay every semester, so every dollar counted.

It’s funny to think about because even though they hated it when I  _dirtied_  up their items, they happily urged me to succumb to the dirtiest practice known demand. They loved to offer me pills to help relax, and they loved to leave me cigarettes and all sorts of other narcos on campus. They despised the idea of me being the only pure one – the innocent. The unintoxicated. The  _anomaly_.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? This isn’t that bad, dude –“ One of them holds up an imposter covered up like a cigarette. At least, that was what it looked like to me, but they were too far gone for those anymore. “It’s a blunt. They aren’t  _that_  bad, ya’ pussy.” He places it between his cracked lips and sucks it in. The fiery orange light sheers into ash and a simple tap onto a styrofoam cup get rid of the useless remains. I place my bag onto the bunk bed to the left of the room. I begin taking off my shoes with a countenance full of curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s  _weed_ , you dunce. Ain’t gonna do nothing but make you think longer. Try it.” He pushes it out farther, as if I’m close to him in the first place. I roll my eyes and cross my arms to the bottom of my dirty shirt. I slide it off my body and begin to change into another. I remind myself to wash my laundry this weekend.

“Yeah, okay. And even if I did, I don’t want to smoke something you had your mouth on…” My other two roommates let out subtle laughs. They talk amongst each other, giggling as if they were high school girls. I scrunch my eyebrows up at them and shake my head. To think I came here to room with a bunch of idiots.

“Here, here – I’ll even put it in a bong.” He pulls out a long pink cylinder-like object. It’s tinted black, showing smoke has been flowing in and out of it. He then pulls out a plastic bag of marijuana. He wiggles it in front of me as if I’m a dog and he is holding a bone. “Do you want to try it or not?”

I don’t know if it was the amount of stress building up in me because finals were that week, or because I did, in fact, have an underlying curiosity of why this life was so great. Why do they gain so much happiness from this simplistic activity? What was so good about it? What was so good about it that it made you do it every day, no matter what, at the same time? Interest poked at me like thorns that day.

My roommates explained to me how to use it. The simplest thing I heard is that  _‘I had to suck all the smoke in and let it do its thing.’_  As if that isn’t vague enough. So, I did it, and I’ve never coughed as hard. It flooded my throat and tainted my lungs. It hurt, and I had the urge to drink gallons of water to get rid of the dry taste. They laughed at me as I did. I cursed them out and threw the bong at them. I figured they tricked me and what they gave me was nothing but useless air. I was  _pissed_.

Being high has to be one of the worst experiences in my college career.  I was vulnerable. I reacted slow. I slurred when I talked. And the worst of all was that I was surrounded by people I didn’t trust at all. People I wouldn’t doubt for a second to send me into a lake blindfolded if they had the chance to. It was like my mind had an urge to go back to normal, but no matter how much I wanted to, my body didn’t let me. My eyes got hazy, and I found myself staring at my bookbag for thirty minutes wondering what was happening to me. It was weird. I didn’t know what was happening, and frankly, I was a tad bit scared. It went away about two hours later, but the remembrance kept me awake all night. The simplicity that one smoke did that to my body made me slightly frightened, but I also felt guilty that I succumbed to the drugs.

I declined it every day afterward. The feeling of being out of my element – out of  _control_  – didn’t appeal to me. I already didn’t trust anyone around me, and I didn’t want being high to get me in serious trouble because I can’t think straightly.

So, I wonder, with my previous experience with marijuana and its alarming effects, how Ackerman found joy in it. Joy, as in, he is currently playing around with Dillard’s sunglasses with a fluffy orange scarf wrapped around his neck. His smile looks like it will break his cheeks, and he keeps laughing every time he thinks something he says is funny. It’s a bit annoying, but my curiosity on how he was able to even  _walk_  while being high (which I couldn’t do because when I did it, I fell straight to the ground) dominated my mind.

“Can we get something to eat, I am starving.”

“I literally have fifty pounds of food in my car that I could have cooked if you weren’t such a disappointment.”

“If I remember –“ Ackerman lifts his finger up quickly and looks at me through his regular sunglasses. He slyly smirks and claps his hands together loudly. “This place has some really good Chinese food. Hm –“ He moans lowly, making me so uncomfortable that I can’t even describe it. “I love noodles. I also love chicken. Like, the honey kind of chicken. You ever had Panda Express?” He murmurs. I begin walking away nonchalantly, honestly expecting him to follow. He is basically a dog at this point. “They have this spicy beef that is really hot, and hot food gives me the burps. But it’s so good. I want something like that.”

I’ve learned to be quiet. All conversations with him at this point are useless. Ten minutes ago, I asked him if his  _highness_ was fading, and he told me that he wishes he could meet Joe Biden. I’ve given up.

We make it to the food court in a safe form. Ackerman has to grab my wrist the whole time we walk, and I don’t even want to talk about how difficult he was on the escalators. Nonetheless, we make it to a restaurant that has a relatively short line and ponder over the food choices. I decided to just get white rice with peppers on top. Ackerman, of course, makes the most out of the smallest things.

“Wh…” He stalls for a second. He hovers a second over the glass separating people from the food. The man stares at him in confusion. I hit Ackerman on his back, which wakes him up from his daze. “ _Uh_  – spicy beef. With some noodles. I also want three egg rolls. And a mad huge Pepsi drink. Like, bigger than Kim Kardashian's ass. You know what I’m sayin’? Minaj shit.  _Huge_. ”

_I’msofuckinggladthismanistoobusycookingthefoodtolistentothis oh my fucking god I cannot do this anymore._

“Thank you, sir.” I hurriedly announce as I hand him my card. He swipes it nonchalantly and pulls out the biggest plastic cup they have. I almost throw it to Ackerman. He has the ultimate look of satisfaction at the size and strides over to the soda machine. I grab our food onto a dark, brown tray and place it onto the nearest table near us.

I can’t believe I’m out here acting like a god damn mom for this adult ass man. Buying him food and shit. What is my life turning into? Why does this happen to me, of all people?

“Sometimes I think about why food is so good. The person who created this shit is smart as fuck. I could never.”

“It’s called agriculture, you idiot.”

“What?” Ackerman looks at me with a noodle hanging out his mouth. “No, I don’t think I have a culture. I mean, what even is the definition of culture? I think it can be a community with shared interest. Like me. I’m poor and an alcoholic. That is my culture. You know what I’m saying?” Silence. “God, I should have gone to college. I’m fucking brilliant.”

“I really question if you even finished high school.”

“I actually didn’t –“Ackerman lifts his fork as he munches on a piece of orange chicken. His sunglasses still cover his eyes, so I have no way of seeing his countenance. Usually, if I look long enough I can tell if he is about to say some dumb shit. “ – I dropped out a week before. They wanted me to stay an extra year so I dropped out. I told my mom that I graduated and she believed me and threw me a party. Then I told her one day and she beat my ass. Crazy times.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I shake my head at his brutal words and move the rice around the plate. I resist reaching over on Ackerman’s plate to munch on his greasy chicken. I end up forfeiting it and grab some of it. Ackerman doesn’t notice. He is busy sipping on the drink like his throat is made out of cotton. As he does, I ponder on his words. I can’t imagine Kuchel hitting anyone, moreover her own child. “Nice to know my stepmother was abusive.” I meant it as a joke, considering my own mom used to hit me as a kid. They were usually after I did dumb shit, like fight at school or curse her out. They were moderately reasonable.

“My uncle would say so.” Ackerman murmurs. I avoid looking at him, as if to say I’m not listening though I know very well that I can hear him. “ ‘ _Levi, your mother was a piece of shit – now look at you.’_  Blah, blah, blah.” He mimics what I can only assume as the voice of his uncle in a deep tone. In doing so, he rubs his eyes from under the sunglasses and gives me a glimpse of his crimson-hued sclera. “Little did he know, they both were pieces of shit. That’s why I grew up to be such a pathetic disappointment.”

_‘Jesus. Fucking. Christ. This guy really has no filter -not even when it comes to dissing himself.’_

Nonchalantly, Ackerman points his fork at me and gives a sly grin. “Thank you for attending my Ted-Talk.”

“…Shut up, Ackerman.”

“Ackerman?” He lifts his head and scrunches his eyebrows at me. “Don’t call me that anymore.”

“It’s literally just your last name.”

“How would you feel if I called you gaylord?... See, you don’t like that by the look of your face –“

“That is  _not_  the same thing! And please stop insinuating that I’m gay!”

“God,” Ackerman shakes his head and takes the last few sips of his soda. “I hate straight people.”

“You know what –“ I lift my finger. “ – I hate gay pe… _wait no_  –“

“Oh, so now you’re homophobic?” Ackerman pushes his meal and looks at me with sarcastic disgust. “I can’t believe I’m living with you.”

“Just shut up and finish your food, Ackerman.”

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that? Call me Levi.”

“Kiss my ass.” I cross my arms and push away my meal too. “I don’t like you enough for that. Besides, if I did call you Levi, it would give you the incentive to call me Eren – which I do not approve of.”

“I don’t want to call you by your gay-ass name.”

“Would you -!!” I bounce up out of my wooden chair.  Levi –  _Ackerman_  – ignores my movements and finishes up his meal. “I  _told_  you to stop saying that!”

 

 

The groceries in the car are surprisingly fine. I examine them in the trunk, making sure to place the meat into an ice box I refilled for emergencies like this. The frozen vegetables melted slightly, leaving a small puddle in the plastic bag, but I neglect it and start to arrange them apart. Ackerman sits in the front seat, managing whatever his unusual ass does. I honestly don’t even care at this point. I just need to drop his conceited ass off at home and consider about what the fuck I’m going to do with him.

He can’t stay here anymore, that’s for sure. We obviously don’t click. And don’t get me started on the fact that we are technically step-brothers! I sway my head and roll up a plastic bag in anger. I can’t believe my stupid ass father decided to marry someone with a child like that. Even so, I imagine what Kuchel had to go through, producing an alcoholic –

Subsequently, it strikes me. I feel vaguely stupid and I kind of want to slap myself for it. Evidently, Ackerman wasn’t born an absolute idiot. He was delivered in simplicity. Conceived and born. Crying and laughing. Kid to a teenager. Adult to now. For some unknown reason, I forget the critical concept of nature vs. nurture, and as I ponder I wonder about the overarching element of Kuchel Ackerman, or  _Jaeger_ , in his life.

Or more precisely, if she was ever there in the first place.

But I digress and slam the trunk closed. The groceries are sorted and fine. They should last by the time I get back home. Feeling a bit optimistic, I waltz back up to my precious Barnaby and open the driver seat door. I enter and lay myself onto the comfortable seat. I don’t pay attention to Ackerman who is obviously messing around with something on his lap. I grab my keys from my pocket and start up the car. It almost feels as if the car is moving by itself considering how smoothly it drives. I press the pedal and begin driving on the road, oblivious of what Ackerman was so heavily into next to me.

The radio begins to play a relaxing song. I hardly listen to the lyrics, but I know it calms me down. It reminds me of the days deep at night, where I would stay up for long hours of writing. It fuels me to think about. I give a grim smile and roll down my window slightly. Maybe if I didn’t have any pending emails, I could try and finish up the first chapter of my nove –

“Hey, do you have my lighter?” I scrunch up my eyebrows and look over at Ackerman. He stares at me with no emotions. I still haven’t looked at his lap. “I could have sworn I put it in the cup thing.” In gazing down at his lap, I see a dark chocolate cylinder split open. Chopped greens fill it up and almost spill out of the edge. It takes me a while to figure out what he is doing. “Listen, can you not freak out for once in your life? I’m making it for down the road.”

“You have  ** _more_**!” I try and focus on the road, but my feet end up going back and forth between pedal and brake. “No, throw that shit away! You are not bringing that into my house!”

“I’m not, you doofus! I’m making it for the day you drive me up a fucking wall and I need a blunt to satisfy my fucking alcoholic needs because  _you know_ , you decided to lock up all the wine cellars again!”

“Sorry that I don’t want your thick throat ass gobbling up all my shit!”

“Okay, cool – this will save you some money!” He holds up the blunt, as he called it, that is still somewhat open. “Fine, I’ll find the lighter myself. Just drive us home.”

“I really think you don’t understand. I am a lawyer. I can have you thrown in jail for doing this illegal shit.”

“I’m pretty sure lawyers and police are not synonyms. Don’t be a killjoy, Eren.”

“ _Eren_?” I shake my head in disbelief. “See, this is the shit I was talking about.”

“I swear to god if there is anybody on earth who needs this blunt right now – it’s you!” Ackerman reaches below the seat and lets out a brief ‘found it!’ before flicking the light. He seals up the rello and pinches it with his thumb. I’m still driving at this point, but luckily the roads are becoming less and less busy. I see the sun starting to set, and it reminds me how long we have been out. Days like this usually go fast, but I didn’t expect it to go that fast. “Here, try it.”

“What?” I flinch away from the blunt Ackerman pushes into my face. “Stop, I’m driving!”

“Then park somewhere! In a park preferably, they are the best places.”

“I am not going to get high with you, Ackerman –“

“Levi –“

“ – I have better things to do. Besides, I have not had good experiences with that shit.”

“Oh ho?” Ackerman raises an eyebrow at me and begins to chuckle. “So, you’ve actually smoked? Props to you. But I hope you know that if you smoke around strangers, you are more likely to freak the fuck out. That is probably what your dumb ass did.” Ackerman leans back in his seat and starts perfecting the object in his hands. “ ‘ _Oh, look at these guys smoking marijuana. I wanna be cool too, so I’m gonna smoke with them. Dum, dum, dum!’_ ”

“…. that was an awful impression of me.”

“Whatever!” Ackerman points to a nearby park that we are currently passing by. “Turn here.” I ignore his comments. “If you don’t, I will. And you know how that went last time.”

“Oh great, now you’re threatening me.” I start to turn, even though my complaints extend. “I love being controlled and forced to partake in recreational drugs-use. I’m so fucking excited.”

Yet, Ackerman ignores my complaints. He points to a certain place to park. I do it, though I really don’t know why I succumbed to his wishes so quick. Ackerman doesn’t seem the least surprised. It is as if he knows me.  _He doesn’t though_. “That’s the spirit. Roll up your windows.” I shake my head as I roll up the window. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? I look over and watch Ackerman start to flicker the light toward the blunt. I scrunch my eyes at it, as if it is some sort of bomb, and look away.

“I can’t believe I really just listened to you. Why am I here….” I murmur to myself discretely. Apparently, I wasn’t discrete enough, because Ackerman tilts his head toward me and gives out a small chuckle.

“It’s called curiosity. You should have it more, you might have more fun.”

 

 

Space isn’t black. It’s just dark. I’ve been thinking about that. I mean,  _that just fucks me up_. What makes it so black, er – dark? Is there a light switch? What makes it so dark? Why am I even here? Human evolution is so fucking cool. Were dinosaurs even real? Imagine that, a fat ass alligator chasing you down the coast. God, I wish that were me.

_“I[guess ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gru4IfbKlfU)you wonder where I've been, I searched to find a love within, I came back to let you know, got a thing for you and I can't let go…”_

The air is so foggy. I can hardly see the road in front of me. I mean, I’m not driving, but I still can’t see it. I don’t think I’m moving, you know? My eyes feel heavy, and with every thought, my body moves slower. I shake my head to the beat of the music playing and look over at Ackerman. He reclined the seat all the way back as he breathes out swindles of smoke. He kind of looks like a dragon. Neat.

My throat feels so dry. I need some water. Is there a Walgreens near here? I ask Ackerman.

“Yeah, I like that color too.”

“Yeah…”

_“My friends wonder what is wrong with me, but I'm in a daze from your love, you see, I came back to let you know, got a thing for you and I can't let go…”_

Ten minutes later, we see a squirrel try and run up a tree. It falls when it gets attacked by another squirrel. They fight in the middle of the sidewalk, and Ackerman and I can’t stop laughing. My stomach starts hurting at the laughter belching out my mouth. Ackerman’s cheeks turn red, and I can’t help but stare. My stomach rumbles, and my heart thumps a thousand times faster than normal. I stare at him for the lengthiest time. Soon enough, the squirrel situation isn’t even humorous anymore, but Ackerman still chuckles like it is the funniest thing in the world.

The sun has already disappeared beneath the horizon, but for some reason, it still feels like the day. Ackerman’s silky voice creates song tracks in my head, and I discover myself replaying the relaxing sound over and over again when it stops. Ackerman offers me the drug once more. I look eagerly at it, small as a roach, smoking peacefully a fiery orange as ash falls onto Barnaby’s luxurious interior. I scarcely care. I bob my head and push his shapely hands back. “I’ll burn my lips.” Ackerman nods and sucks up the visible smoke like a relaxing aromatherapy. I regard him with blossoming interest.

Then he does the most fascinating thing. He grabs my chiseled jaw, shrewd eyes bleeding red and a smile tattooed on his face, and pushes my chin down with the body of his pinky finger. My mouth slacks open, and for a rare moment, I expect it to happen. I wait there desperately as if yearning for a microscopic droplet of water to satisfy the urging thirst boiling within my stomach. My fingers clutch the bottom of my slacks and become hot. My heart punches against my ribcage, screaming and yelling for emotional satisfaction.

And the moment I anxiously expect plump pillows to connect with my own, I see Ackerman’s mouth release a gray fire like a dragon. The gas flows into my mouth. My heart calms, as it decided that it wished for the wrong things. The wrong things, as in, the ones we should not wish for. I shut my mouth and try to reprimand myself for developing a sense of disappointment. Moments pass by, ranging in minutes, and I lean back against the chair. Ackerman flicks the rest out the window.

So, we sit there, surrounded in our own fiery gas that irresistibly reminds me of collapsing clouds. But I don’t know if my sudden fright comes from the dragonish physique before me, or more so my lack of regret for desiring the impulsive, yet striking man before me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weed is illegal guys don't partake... (alone). anyways, let me know if you enjoy. my tumblr is Kloue if you guys ever want to chat. All I do is cry over the Bleach manga ending, reblog iconic ereri pictures, and share funny ass quotes. sorry for my hiatus btw, i have no excuses. I was just lazy as fuck tbh.   
> *next chapter should be up ehhhh probably next week? Maybe this weekend if I have time to edit. See you guys then!


	13. Vegan Tacos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instagram: Iamkloue (creative I know)

“Levi… _Levi_ wake your ass up!”

My throat feels like it hasn’t obtained water for years. I lick my lips that are chapped from no moisture. Extending my legs, I wonder why I feel so compacted. My eyes finally open slowly, and I am caught with the few of the sun rising, glaring at me and cursing at my common presence. I level my eyes at the angry being and bob my head to the voice of concern. There goes Eren, rebellious hair disheveled and eyes heavy with precious bags. I almost want to laugh out loud because he looks so painfully ordinary. Well, without the suit, anyway.

“What? Is there a fire?”

“Yeah, up your ass in a minute! We fell asleep! Why didn’t you tell me to drive us home?” Eren starts strategically placing on his seatbelt. His movements are sluggish, evidently experiencing the after-effects of smoking. I rub my eyes tiredly and start to recline the seat back up.

“You can’t drive high. You were stoned out of your mind.”

“… _whatever_. You’re lucky it is Sunday or I’d be pissed.”

“Like you aren’t every day?” I start picking at the dead skin on my lip. “You owe me twenty dollars by the way. Weed is expensive these days.”

“You aren’t getting shit from me. As far as I’m concerned, this was peer pressure and you are a bad influence.”

“I’m literally twenty-four. How can I influence a senile bitch like you?”

“Fuck you, you imitation of Stewart little.”

And all goes back to normal.

 

“Eddy!” I pick up Eddy immediately when I walk into Eren’s big as fuck mansion. He lays on the couch in the living room, playing with a bone chew toy that Eren got him. I rub him behind his ears and coo at him. His tail wags effortlessly. It only inflames me to embrace him more.

“Ahem.” I look up from my only happiness to see Carla Jaeger standing before me, dressed in a bra and panties with her hair wrapped in a towel. Her face is littered with a green mask, and I can smell the faint scent of cucumber. She crosses her arms and points to the canine in my hands. “Care you explain to me why I found this dog in Eren’s room, pissing and shitting on his comforter –“

“ _What_! – “

“ – Without any owner to watch him?” I defy her words for a second to ponder over her appearance. “Do you really not know how to take care of a dog?”

“Are you always naked? I swear there has not been a time where you haven’t been naked.” I stroke the back of my head and run my hands down on Eddy’s coat. “Besides, I think there is a sort of freedom about solitude. It helps develop independence, you know?”

“Wait, wait _, wait, wait_ – he shitted on my comforter?” Eren inevitably comes out the woodworks, as per usual, with a harsh glare on his grave face. “I thought he was trained! Didn’t you have those paper shits on the floor?” He inquires me directly.

“I thought he would just see the paper, and with his magical dog powers, know to piss and shit only on that paper. It is quite simple.” I see Eren look at me as if I’m absurd. I scoff loudly. “Obviously he wouldn’t learn in a fucking day, Eren. You have to do this thing called classical conditioning.”

“Oh great, you’re a psychologist now. Add that to your list of dreams.”

“Ugh, you guys drive me crazy! I can’t do this anymore!” Carla suddenly shouts. She turns around and begins to walk back up the stairs to the house. “It’s like I had two more twins who can never shut the hell up!” Her grumbling fades as she walks. I nonchalantly grab Eddy and place him in my lap. His tail still wags and he finds joy in jumping to lick me on the face. I look over at Eren who rubs a hand down his face.

“What?” I ask. Eren glares at me and leans against the couch.

“My room is going to smell like shit when I walk in, I just know it.”

“Well, duh. It’s feces.”

“…. come on.” Eren murmurs. I look up at him with confusion. “It’s your dog. You’re going to help me.”

“I really think you have me fucked up. Like, you’ve never had me more fucked up than now.”

“If you don’t come help me clean this shit off the bed, so help me –“

“Okay, okay – I’m coming! Anything to hear you shut your Caucasian mouth!”

Eren’s room is not that bad. Sure, it smells like ass and urine, but it isn’t that bad. I watch Eren who covers his nose in recoil and starts to cough. I roll my eyes and set Eddy onto the floor. “It is not that bad. I once brought in a stray cat and they use to throw up, piss, and shit every day. Turns out they were really old and they couldn’t control themselves anymore.”

“I love how you always seem to connect weird moments like these to yourself.”

“Well, yeah.” I walk up to the bed and push back the covers. There it sits, ass-smelling and all. I chuckle at Eren’s reaction. He turns his head away and begins to head into the bathroom. “I'm pretty used to it.”

I use to bring in many strays when I had my apartment. Of course, I wasn’t supposed to, but I did anyway. The biggest I brought in was a rottweiler. He ended up biting me the next day, but that is beside the point. I usually ended up giving them a majority of my food so they could live. Many times, they would be so skinny I’d starve myself on days end, just so they could get the right nutrition. Besides, they helped with the mice infestation that was beginning to happen there. I chuckle at the memory. I’m just glad I only had Eddy in the house. I would hate myself if I ended up having a ton of strays staying in my bedroom when the fire began.

“No wonder your apartment smelled awful.” I look up at Eren. He holds some paper towels with a tub of bleach. I scrunch up my eyebrows at his response until I realize I had said everything out loud. I shrug my shoulders and rip the paper towel. “They usually stayed in your bedroom…is that why you lived on your couch?” For a second, I reflect on how the hell he knows my previous life so well. I then remember he took me home one day when I was drunk off tequila. I chuckle softly at the memory.

That’s when all of this started.

“Yeah, I was cleaning it out because my landlord found out. He came in checking a leak and ended up seeing about ten dogs chilling in my bedroom. I usually stole blankets and comforters for them to sleep on.” Eren shakes his head at the confession while spraying the feces with bleach. “I let them go the day after and ended up drinking a bunch because I missed them so much. Ah…then I got you – Eddy.” I look down at Eddy who nudges my feet. I pick him up and place him onto the bed. “Well, stole you anyways.”

“I find it hard to believe that your alcoholism stems from no dogs.”

“Who the fuck said that?” I glare at Eren like he is crazy. I start cleaning up the rest of the shit on the bed. “I fucking wish it did. Then I could just steal a thousand dogs and be perfectly healthy.” I point to a stain that won’t let up. “Spray here.” He does so. I rub at it harshly. “Sometimes you say stupid shit, Eren.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how was it being high? We should do it again, but you should pay. Because you know, I’m poor.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him and chuckle when he shakes his head at me.

“I will not be doing that again. That was a one-time thing.” Eren begins rubbing his eyes in aggravation. I finish up cleaning the stain and look down at the caramel blemish on his mattress. “Now I need a new fucking mattress. Great.”

“Well, I tried. Come on Eddy.” I grab Eddy, who was smelling the stain with interest, and tuck him in my elbow. “Let’s go eat some blueberries.” I ignore Eren who glares at me. Then his eyes widen quickly and he jumps off the bed. I watch as he falls, gets back up again, and stubs his toe on the dresser.

“ _Fuck_! The groceries!” He limps his way out of the room with a certain speed beatable to a cheetah. I shake my head and roll my eyes.

What a loser.

 

“I want tacos.”

“You not getting no god damn tacos, Levi. Get the fuck out of my face.” He brutally stabs the raw steak on the plastic plate. It bleeds dull crimson, lathering the offensive sides and mixing with the used sauce around it. I grimace and glance down at the undercooked meat on my shallow plate. I start nervously kicking my legs back and forth in anxiousness. It looks like it is still alive. I shift my sore eyes to my lap and fiddle with my pudgy fingers. “Levi, eat your fucking food. I’m not gon’ tell you again.”

“I’m not hungry, Kenny.”

“Your momma told me to feed you, so I am. If you want her tacos take that up with her.” He munches on the tender steak. His jaw drops wearily and tightens convulsively with brutality. Some juice drops into his grizzled beard and travels throughout. I avert my eyes at the ghastly sight and desperately try to hold back a recoil. “She not gonna be here till midnight, so you might as well eat.” I jerk my head stubbornly. My raven locks wave and cover up my face.

“I’ll wait.”

My stomach starts caving in when Uncle Kenny begins watching the television in the living room. I sit awkwardly on the floor, playing with a straw and a plastic plate. I fiddle with my hands and try to subdue the ominous rumbling in my upset stomach. “Can I have some water, Kenny?” He glances aloft at me on the floor. He doesn’t allow me to sit on the couch. Kenny rubs his mouth and takes a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, all we got is tap.”

“…do we have juice? I like orange juice.”

“We got apple.”

“I don’t like apple.”

“Levi –“ Kenny outstretches his hand. I flinch, though I know he would never hit me, and shift my head away from him. “ – I don’t got nothing for you! You can’t be picky right now.” He takes another sip of his beer and lets out a deep burp. He tilts the tinted brown glass at me, a firm grin on his face. “Here, drink this.”

“Momma said I can’t drink that no more.”

“Stay thirsty then.”

I do. My thirst eventually decreases when I succumb to drinking the tap water in the bathroom. It tastes faintly of exposed metals, but I disregard it for the sake of my stomach. It still rumbles with ruthlessness. I end up laying on my back, trying to focus on the thought of my mother coming home and making me food. It undoubtedly had nothing to do with tacos itself, I merely wanted the taste of her food. It gave me nostalgia and was the closest thing we had to a ‘normal’ family meal.

Her hearty laughter is the first remarkable thing I hear. I instantly jump off the floor and look over at the front door. My mother walks in looking gorgeous as always. Her glossy hair softly flows down her back and over her shoulders. Her sundress prompts me of the one lilac I found in our front yard. I smile reassuringly and stay in place. She doesn’t like when I bombard her at the front door. I naturally want to jump up and down, but I know she will just yell at me to calm down. I giggle hysterically when her fierce eyes connect with mine. I missed her. It seemed like she was gone forever!

Her noble head turns, and there he is. A crooked smile stitched to his red face that forcibly reminds me of wicked demons. My smile fades instantly and I become submissive. I fiddle with my nervous fingers and try not to severely shake when he enters the home. I hear Kenny mutter insults under his breath as he turns down the television. “It’s about time you come home. I’m tired of dealing with this brat.”

“Sorry,” My mother says. She glows indefinitely. She must have had a good dinner tonight. He is always taking her out to eat. I guess this means I won’t be getting tacos like I initially thought. “Time caught up with us. Thanks for watching him.”

“Whatever. Get out.” The coldness in his voice is clear. My mom ignores his tone of voice and snatches my hand. I offer a grim smile and follow her to the front door. As I begin to leave, I overhear Kenny’s voice wishing me a good night. “Love you, kid. See you next week.”

“Love you too, Uncle Ke –“ My mother slams the door closed before I can respond. She lets go of my hand and struts her way to her companion’s car. He follows her slyly. I lick my lips and try to go as fast as my small legs will let me. I overhear her words as she jumps into the passenger seat of the car.

“That fucking asshole. He pisses me off when he gets like that. I don’t understand why he acts like that anymore.” She rants. As I get into the car, I observe her pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the glove compartment. My scowl deepens and a sigh leaves my mouth gently. I hate the foul smell of her burning cigarettes. She knows that. It makes me cough and I end up needing more water. “I can’t wait until I get far from here. I’m so over this shit.”

“Momma –“

“Levi, not right now. I’m not in the mood. Next week, your step-father is watching you. You hear me? I don’t want no more complaints. You can’t go to Kenny no more.”

“But –“

“Levi.” Her voice sends chill up my spine. “Look at me.” I do, but instead of seeing just one pair of eyes, I inevitably see two. My anxious heart starts thumping a thousand beats a critical minute. His sunken eyes, glimmering a dead hazel, makes my breath hitch. I don’t even get a chance to look over at my mother. His eyes take me in and tie me down. They solemnly burn me. I swallow with difficulty the lump in my hoarse throat. “No more talking. It’s over.” I merely nod my head in understanding.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Now, did you eat?” I gaze out the window as he begins to drive the car. I nod my head.

“Yes ma’am.”

 

 _Dreaming is only an illusion. Remember that_. I jerk out of my slumber and jump up off the couch. I look around the room and see that I am in Eren’s room. His radio is faintly playing in the background. Eddy is laying down on the other side of the couch, fur tinted violet from blueberries and eyes squinted close. I rub my eyes and let out a loud yawn. The evening sun shines through the curtains and emits light into my eye. I squint and turn my head. I guess I must have gotten tired and headed up here to sleep. Though, as far as I know, the heating downstairs is fixed. I shake my head and run my hand through my hair.

My mind tells me to head downstairs. I comply, lifting my legs off the couch and standing up to stretch. Eddy wakes up and I make sure to grab him. I guess leaving him alone isn’t that much of a good idea anymore. I head downstairs where I can smell food cooking. My stomach growls. The instant my foot lands on the last step, I see them all.

Carla. Grisha. Eren. His sister. I blink my eyes a few times to see if what I was viewing is true. It is. Eren’s sister stands in front of the stove, meaninglessly stirring food in a pot and switching to chop up some vegetables. Grisha and Carla are speaking as they sit at the counter. Eren has his laptop out on the counter as well, sitting down as he types as fast as ever. It looks picture perfect. It’s like all the right pieces fall into the right place. The mother, the father, the sister, and the son. The perfect picture. The perfect image. The perfect family. How does that feel? I want to smile, but it is as if my heart holds a dagger. It stabs ruthlessly at my insides, reprimanding me for thinking so much.

But I stand there, as if a spirit watching upon my future family members. I mean, they are technically my family, right? Grisha…he is my step-father. Eren, my step-brother. Carla…not much. But she is Eren’s mother, so we must be family…right?

It’s not real. It’s all fake. It has always been fake.

“Levi, nice to see you are awake!” Grisha is the first one to notice me. He smiles widely at me, acting like I complete the puzzle. It was already complete. Why am I here? “Did you sleep well? Come, we are having dinner. Your mother should be here soon.”

“She is coming…?” My breath hitches in my throat. “I think…I think I should go back upstairs. I’m feeling sick.”

“Nonsense, come on –“Grisha pulls out one of the stools from under the counters. He pats it and gives me a welcoming grin. My gut tells me to leave, _just leave_ , but my feet move under his comforting gaze. Is this how it feels? “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“What is happening?” I ask as I sit onto the stool. I avoid looking Eren in the eyes. Well, it’s not like he was looking at me in the first place. He seems too invested in his work for sure. Grisha shuffles himself to face me more. Carla is beside him, but the look on her face feigns annoyance. She is wearing clothes, luckily. I lick my lips and place Eddy onto the counter. I see Eren’s face in the corner of my eye open his mouth to complain, but Grisha’s voice beats him to it.

“Mikasa called us for a meal.” Grisha responds. He subtly whispers under his breath. “She finally got a _job_.” I avoid responding. It wasn’t really my place to question her. I don’t even have a job myself. I’ve been mooching my whole life.

“Yeah, I hope she hurries up cooking because I don’t have all day. I have work in the morning.”

“Shut up, asshole.” Mikasa mutters as she pulls up something from the oven. It is a large vanilla cake. It smells good too. She places it onto of the stove and grabs a wooden spoon to stir the food. “It’s done. Dessert will be ready after dinner.” She begins to grab porcelain plates. They shine and reflect in the light. I watch her make a plate who she hands to her mother first.

I get mine last, as I expected. “What is this?” I try and ask as politely as possible. Mikasa sits down in a chair next to Eren. I notice they are all sitting across from me. I feel isolated. Alienated, almost. But when has that not been the case?

“Tacos.” – she responds nonchalantly. I look down at the food with a certain nostalgia. “Vegan tacos.” I begin poking at it. I’ve never seen tacos quite like this. I shrug my shoulders and pick up the hard shell. Everybody has started to eat, even Eren. He places his laptop onto the middle of the table and begins eating slowly. I lick my lips and take one last look at the family.

They truly look like the perfect puzzle.

The bell to the front door rings. I refrain from taking a bite. I see Grisha jump off his stool and head to the front door. Carla rolls her eyes and licks her fingers.

Her hearty laughter makes me uneasy. I instantly stiffen in my seat and look over at the front door. My mother walks in looking gorgeous. Her glossy hair softly flows down her back and over her shoulders. Her crimson sundress reminds me of a chaotic inferno. I frown and place the taco down onto the plate. I avoid looking her into her eyes. She doesn’t like when I bombard her. I naturally want to jump up and down in place, but I know she will just yell at me to calm down. I want giggle hysterically when her fierce eyes connect with mine, just like I did when I was a kid. I miss her. It always seems like forever.

Her noble head turns, and there Grisha is. A comforting smile stitched onto his rosy face that forcibly reminds me of a real father. I try and give a grin, but I end up just frowning even more. I fiddle with my fingers and try not to severely shake. These moments play over and over again, but there is always a different man.

“Here, go ahead and sit, dear.” Grisha provides her a seat at the edge of the table. Not on my side, however. My mother sits happily onto the seat. She avoids making eye contact with me. It is as if I’m not even there. He asks her if she wants something to eat, and she says yes. She fades into a conversation. She asks Mikasa how she and her husband are doing. She compliments Carla for her dress. She encourages Eren to take a break from work. She consumes her food, looking to her left and smiling with the family she knows she doesn’t belong to. She admires them from her own purgatory.

But I sit there on the right, appetite lost and mind overflowing with thoughts. If these were sides, would I be heaven or hell? The color black or white? Red or blue? These distinct thoughts consume me, and I wonder if there is anything good about representing the anomaly. When I look up from my thoughts, my eyes connect with viridian orbs. He shuffles in his seat and leans against the counter. I notice that his seat is a bit farther than everyone else’s, though he is still on the other side.

Perhaps we are similar in a way. He is closer to them than me, but nonetheless, we are always split apart from the norm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instagram: Iamkloue (will include sneak peeks of next TNF chapters, new upcoming stories, cute videos and posters, and other shit that involve my life)
> 
> ....yeah just had to pop that in there again. Hope you enjoyed! I know the story is going kind of slow but I promise some action will be happening soon. Have you ever heard of a slow burn? They often have the most satisfying climaxes....pause.


	14. Heart-attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi enters Eren's domain - but unintentionally. 
> 
> warning #1: alcoholism, non-consensual use of drugs, and Levi being a troublemaker as always.  
> warning #2: mentions of physical abuse  
> warning #3: a slight time skip? (its a month yo chill)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back on this fine Sunday with a new chapter. I forced myself to finish chapter 15 yesterday so I could upload this. I figure planning out one chapter ahead is pretty useful when I'm being lazy as hell. Anywaayyysss, we get a month passing of Eren and Levi living together and how they seem to co-exist. I hope you enjoy!

 “My daddy doesn’t like you that much.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like him either.” I shuffle the bag on my back. It is riddled with books and pencils. I look across the street, left and right, and begin walking. Ignoring Isabel is a hassle, considering she follows me like a little puppy. We both wear our school uniforms, though Isabel’s is noticeably more pristine and well put together. Mines it littered with holes and stains. It doesn’t help that kids at school make it worse, often wiping things on me in passing knowing I wouldn’t be able to clean it the next day. I shake my head as I walk across the street. “Come on, you are walking too slow.”

“You walk too fast! Slow down, the bus doesn’t come until the red car passes!” She catches up to me by almost sprinting. The rubber band holding her pigtails start to loosen. She whines when we wait at another stop sign. “Levi, my hair is ruined. You have to fix it! You have to, you have to!”

“I _will_! Just wait until we get onto the bus.” Suddenly, the neon yellow bus drives past us. My jaw drops and I snatch Isabel’s hand. I watch the bus do a subtle halt at our stop. I begin running across the street, negating all the cars honking at us and Isabel’s screeches. “We have to catch it, or –“And just like that, it drives off. I stop running. Isabel runs into me, murmuring an ‘ouch’ when her body collides with my back. I shake my head and stomp childishly on the concrete. “Damn it! Now we have to walk home! I knew they were going to do this!”

“Now what? Momma and daddy are gonna be mad at you!”

“No shit.” I close my eyes and try not to foresee the punishments. “Come on.” I hike my bookbag on my shoulder and start walking. I snap my fingers for Isabel to walk in front of me. She does so obediently, and as she does, I start taking the rubber bands out her hair. “Keep walking. I’ll fix it as we do.” Her hair feels like silk pillows in my hand. I faintly wonder how mine would feel if I could afford shampoo and conditioner. I run my fingers through it and center it into a high pony. “Is one okay?”

“Yes. That’s fine, big brother. Can we go to the gas station? I’m hungry.”

“You didn’t eat lunch? I even gave you my money. Don’t tell me you lost it!”

“I didn’t want that nasty food!” She pulls out two dollars from her pen pocket uniform. “I have money! Pretty please!” I sigh and continues tying her hair into a high ponytail. As I finish, I tighten it and run to stand side by side with her.

“Fine. But you better tell your dad it was your idea.”

“Good idea!” She goes on to tell me what type of candy she wants. Just by her list, I know I’m going to have to dig into my extra change. I shake my head. I’ll try not to miss the bus tomorrow.

By the time we get home, the whole house is relatively silent. The television plays softly in the obscure background of the living room. I tell Isabel to hang up her bookbag but to not take off her polished shoes. She is probably going leaving with her dad soon. I make my way to the dingy kitchen and glance at the used dishes. They are almost filled up, as gnats and fruit flies are swirling around obnoxiously. I frantically grab some orange juice from the fridge and start drinking it. The scorching day leaves me sweaty, and I can practically guarantee I’ll have a tan by tomorrow.

“Where the hell you been?” I jerk from drinking and look over to regard my step-father. He wears a cheap suit with his hair slicked back. He raises an eyebrow at me and leans against the kitchen counter. I place the juice back into the fridge nonchalantly. “You were supposed to be here with Izzy thirty minutes ago. You better not be getting her into shit.”

“We missed the bus.” I wipe my parched mouth with the back of my hand. “She left us on purpose again.”

“It doesn’t take thirty minutes to walk home, even if you missed the bus.” I barely see him coming. He snatches me by my shoulders to swerve me around and wraps his hands around my throat. I nibble my lip and prepare myself for the strike, even if I know it might take me out for hours. I look up at his wicked figure. His eyes remind me so much of Isabel that it’s terrifying. Those leafy, dull eyes. I scrunch up my eyebrows and grasp his wrists. “You better not be dirtying up my daughter, you hear me? I don’t trust boys like you.” He glances over my skinny, scrawny form. “I’ll kill you if you do this again, you hear me?” I don’t answer. I can’t answer. “You hear me?” His fingers tighten convulsively. I can feel it bitterly digging furiously into the back of my sore neck, daring to rip the whole organ apart. I try breathing, but it comes out as a faint whimper. Then I overhear her voice. He doesn’t stop, even though her musical voice could make mighty angels open up merciful heaven for her. He looks up, seeing my mother walking into the kitchen. He bestows a grim smile.

“What is going on?” She murmurs. She sounds like a small animal. I watch as my step-father releases my throat by hurling my body into the counter behind me. I grunt and try not to scream at the feeling of the sharp edge digging into my back. My step-father looks down at me as if I’m _nothing_. He tuts his lip before cracking his knuckles.

“Nothing. You know him.” He turns around and smiles fondly at my mother. She smiles back, not evening glancing my way.

_Why won’t she ever look at me?_

I breathe hard and try to suck up an overwhelming abundance of oxygen. I hoist myself off the floor and whimper at the stinging pain on my back. I keep looking at her. I wish she would look back. I wish she would say something. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. “You ready to go?” My step-father asserts. She bobs her head and clutches her purse from off the kitchen counter. They both walk past me and all I can smell is the floral scent of my mother’s comforting perfume. Before she leaves, she looks back at my form and opens her mouth.

“Make sure you do the dishes, Levi. I’ll see you later tonight.”

_Yes, ma’am._

_I need something to drink._

_Dreams are only illusion, but I can’t handle it much anymore._

It’s been over a month since I’ve been staying with Eren. We flow into a steady rhythm, having early arguments and late-night conversations that usually end up on a decent note. I mostly sleep on the living room couch, though sometimes I find myself sneaking in Eren’s room and napping on his couch. I’ve even had the chance to sleep on his bed, though he complained the whole night when he found out. Nonetheless, we coexist.

But Eren and his mother fight almost every fucking day. I mean, even more than we do. Whether it is over laundry, work, dinner, Grisha (who always seems to be a popular topic), or any other stupid ass problem. I find it useful to just take Eddy, who has been growing lately like a sprout and head down to the basement.

Speaking of the basement, they still have the wine cellar locked. Because of this, I’ve been making more trips to Main Street. They are relatively long walks, but the bartenders know me so well that they sometimes let me sleep the night in a room upstairs. Well, most of them anyways. Some still have my picture slapped near the bottles of Vodka, urging to kick my ass out if they ever see me. I forget what clubs they are at this point, so it usually is a walk-in-and-see-what-happens type of thing.

I have been searching for a job lately and Eren has been maintaining his. Life is a steady line. Not really going up, not really going down. Well, at least not yet.

“He wears gray suits every. Fucking. Day. It drives me crazy! And Petra has the nerve to keep forwarding me his emails about business dinners like I want to sit down and eat with his ass.” I faintly hear Eren’s voice complaining in his bathroom. I try to pay attention to it as I sit on his couch, munching on a bag of chips and occasionally giving Eddy some. I nod my head, though I know he can’t see me, and fiddle on _my_ phone (technically still Eren’s, but he hasn’t taken it back yet, so it’s mine). “Additionally, he took my intern and won’t give him back. It’s annoying as shit.” He strides his way out of the bathroom with a notion of swagger.

His suit lays on his body as if it is made for him. His hair is sloppily brushed and ruffled around his face. Red lips, clear skin, urgent eyes, and a noticeable different cologne smell than normal are all words I can describe him. My attention to the phone fades and I ogle him a bit. The look of childish frustration stitches itself on his face and I can’t help but grin. Eren notices my grin. He turns his head and curves his eyebrows at me.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing. You smell different.”

“Well, yeah.” Eren fixes his wristwatch with a certain arrogance. “Smith wears my usual cologne.”

“….You really hate this guy.”

“Of course,” He says simply, “But I’ve always hated my bosses. I like being the dominant one.”

“Heh,” I smirk at my inner joke and scroll through the phone once more. Eren doesn’t notice and only grabs his suitcase that is laying on his dresser. He starts checking items in and out, eventually finishing up and turning towards me. I raise my eyebrow at his countenance. He jerks his head at me and whisks his hand at me.

“Come on, loser. I don’t have all day!”

Everyday Eren works, he offers to take me with him to drop me off at some busy cities. I usually spend the entire day trying to find a job. As in, entering enterprises, telling them I don’t have a resume, and watching them look at me as if I’m crazy. If they are nice enough, they ask for my phone number. Then I tell them I don’t have one, but I have my friends (Eren’s), and they never end up calling. It’s been an endless cycle. I refuse to work at a fast food joint. Not only that, but Grisha doesn’t want me to either. Probably has something to do with his self-image. That characteristic seems to run in the stupid family.

“Downtown again?” Eren murmurs to me as we get settled into his Bentley. I nod my head and turn the radio up, switching it to a station I know I rather enjoy. Eren doesn’t complain so much about it either. We drive in content. It takes us about twelve minutes to travel downtown. New York during the day is a polluted mess, with people screaming on their telephones and low-life assholes trying to hit on women. I shake my head as Eren slows down in traffic, eventually stopping completely and unlocking the door.

“There. Get out.” I give him one last glance before opening the door. “And try not to head north. That’s where my job is and I don’t wanna see your ugly mug around.” He shouts from the open window. I roll my eyes and flick him off. He drives away, leaving me yearning to go back home when in such a stressful town.

I wish he dropped me off at the Main Street. But he always fucking refuses. I have to do everything myself around here.

I enter a relatively nice bar three blocks away from where Eren dropped me off at. It is definitely not the Main Street, as most of the men in here look like they are all CEO’s of their own companies, but it is good enough. I shuffle through the crowds of men standing, sipping on wine or beer, and head to the bartender. He looks at me with a lack of familiarity. Good.

“Can I get three shots of tequila?” I pull out my id and place it on the counter, along with a twenty-dollar bill. “No lemon please.” The bartender doesn’t even question it, though I’m sure it isn’t often he gets a twenty-four-year-old man coming in at ten in the morning asking for hard liquor. I refrain from sitting on the stool, since I know if I get too comfortable I’ll just end up wasting my day here. As I look around the bar, I ignore stares at my form and lean against the counter.

_I just need three drinks, and I’ll be ready to go. I’ll visit three places today. I swear I will._

You know how a sink sometimes drips droplets of water if you don’t twist the handle far enough? And how if you aren’t careful and don't unplug the sink, the water will fill up the sink before you know it? That’s how it kind of felt. There were driblets and droplets of it on my parched tongue, but just as a droplet, it wasn’t enough to satisfy me. I look away for maybe a second and ask for one more, and the sink gets fuller and fuller. Soon enough you don’t even know how long it's been. The sink is so full, and your unconscious mind is so cluttered that you scarcely know how it all began. If only you twisted the crooked handle a bit farther. If only you controlled yourself. Or maybe, if only you walked aimlessly past the desirable building, this wouldn’t be your unfortunate predicament.

My head hurts now and my heart is thumping quick. It is something I'm not used to. I can feel my stomach caving it. Those _men_ keep staring at me. I haven’t eaten all day. I let out a subtle burp and punch my chest. The soberness needs to kick in. I need to get sober. I have to find a job, _I have to_.

_I should just start walking. Yeah…maybe I’ll go this way. My stomach hurts, though. I’ll keep walking anyways._

_I need to find a job._

 

 

“No seriously Eren, I went to Brown University, I _know_ this.” Petra pushes me out the way from my desk. I scowl at her, wondering why the hell she thought that was a good idea, and cross my arms. She shakes her head at me and makes a mocking frown as she types on my computer. “My third minor was Computer Science! And don’t make that face with me, I don’t have time for your tantrums.”

“My tantrums? Petra, do you know who you are talking to?”

“I’m trying to help you!” She lifts herself from the desk and pushes a finger in my face. “You are the one who stopped talking to me for a week, so I’m trying to make up for it! And I can’t help that you are a big old baby!” She shakes her head again and mutters under her breath. “Mad at me because I gave you a low percentage on your report…come to your _job_ then.”

“You know what…!” I push her hands away from my computer and point an eager finger at her. “Get away! You are like an ant! Always coming back no matter how many times I kill it! Shoo – go check the interns!”

“…do you want me to get Gunther? He went to MIT. I’m pretty sure he knows what is wrong with your piece of shit computer.”

“I really wish I could fire you.”

“Anyway,” Petra pulls out her clipboard and pen from under her arms. Clicking her pen, she begins to write quickly on the piece of paper attached. “This is good timing. We have to do a floor check. Are you ready?” I bob my head and slap my laptop closed. I don’t even care that I hear a crack within. I stand up from my chair and fix my tie calmly. Petra stares at me with a look indescribable. I ignore it and assert myself in front of her.

Walking through the sixth floor can either be the most relaxing thing ever or one of the most annoying. As time continues, I realize it depends on the hour and weekday. It seems as if everybody starts to slack when lunch break is over. I sigh and walk through the rows of cubicles, expecting to hear chatter rather than typing.

“I’m telling you, I had to put the finger on the bootyhole. You have to test the waters sometimes. Girls are nasty.” My feet halt. My ear almost wiggles itself to hear more quickly. “…It was fine though. I’m telling you, these New York girls can be damn _gross_ sometimes.”

“I’m sure you’re not any better. Your shit probably smells like a sweaty ass armpit and wet dog.”

“Man fuck you, Oluo. You’re just mad Petra doesn’t want your saggy booty ass.”

“If you say booty in one more sentence I’m going to fucking screa –“Our eyes meet over to cubicle walls. He can’t see my mouth, my nose, nor any other part of my body neck down. But for some reason, the sight of my eyes makes Oluo spit out the yellow ramen noodles he is currently slurping on. He starts slapping his computer obnoxiously with his large hand, coughing as he twists in his chair. I see Gunther laughing at Oluo, not noticing my presence behind him. I clear my throat and walk around the cubicle.

“I wonder how much work you have gotten done, _Gunther_ , considering it seems you enjoy speaking so imprudently and foul within the work area.” I shuffle my posture and cross my arms over each other. Gunther’s face pales and I can see his eyes close in regret. “Consider that a twenty-five percent decrease in your associate report. And for you, Oluo –“ Oluo scratches the back of his head and opens his mouth to respond. I cut him off before I can. “You will be given another due diligence review prior tomorrow, or you will have a thirty percent knock.”

“What? Dr. Jaeger, listen – this _fool_ –“ Oluo points to Gunther angrily like a child.  “- was talkin’ to me about some girl’s bootyhole! I had to defend his misogynistic viewpoints in deliberation!” He slyly looks over at Petra with a countenance of desire. “I like to call myself a feminist, you know. I could never sit and watch filthy, sexist, low-ranking man disrespect the women of our nation –“

“Oluo, shut the fuck up!” I swipe my hand and scrunch up my eyebrows in annoyance. “Are you dumb or just stupid? No one wants to hear your liberating shit. Get to work, _now_.” I signal Petra to write down their updates. As we leave, I neglect to comprehend Petra chuckling at my comment with a faint blush painting her face. I figure she just enjoys seeing Oluo in dismay.

In looking at the two other cubicles, I am even more annoyed to find Moblit playing checkers with Christa – who decided she wants to be called Historia now again, but whatever – and Thomas. I give him a ten percent dock, but only because he seems to have been teaching the interns more than those other fools.

“Should we check on Armin?” Petra questions. I shake my head quickly and look at my watch. She shuffles on her feet. “Well, technically he is still your intern. Dr. Smith has not officially transferred paperwork for him to be able to do associate check-ups.”

“He is the boss. He should be able to do whatever the fuck he wants.”

“To be honest, I’m pretty sure he has just been taking Armin to piss you off.” Petra puckers her lips and avoids looking me into my eyes. “I’m just saying! It’s easy to get you mad! I’d make fun of you too.”

“You know what, I’m not even going to argue with you. Let’s just go to the next floor and hope to fucking god Hanji is there.” I start pressing the elevator button obnoxiously. Petra rolls her eyes at me and clicks her pen a few times. God, we are both so fucking annoying.

Finally, after a few minutes, the elevator opens gradually. “Finally –“ I incline my head when I detect a shadow in the left corner of the elevator. His cheek is pressed against the elevator wall, face red and hair ruffled everywhere as if he had been comatose. His body is still moving though his face looks asleep. He shuffles uneasily on his feet, as if trying not to call to the crowd but also not having the common sense to grab the pole near him. When the elevator dings, his sunken eyes fly open showing watery orbs, and I pray to whatever god that _this is not who I fucking think it is_. My jaw slightly drops and I ruefully contemplate punching myself in the face in disbelief. A grin appears on his face when he identifies me. A grin oddly familiar but still just as unnerving.

“Yoooo?” He slurs while twitching his face in odd movements. "I didn't know _you'd_ be here...!" 

“.....um…do you want me to get security?”

“No!” I shout way too loudly. Petra flinches and averts her attention to the man in the elevator. “I know him, I mean _– I don’t_ , but uh…” I shake my head at my rambling and turn toward Petra. “…You know I actually left my phone on my desk; can you go get it for me?” I grab her shoulders and push her away from the elevator’s view. Luckily, Levi’s form blocks the elevator from closing so I don’t have to keep an eye on it. “Just go and try and fix my laptop, okay? Okay, thanks –“ After pushing her away farther than needed, I sprint into the elevator and start obnoxiously pressing the button for it to close.

Suddenly, warmth envelops me. My eyes glance down toward my stomach where I see arms encircling my midsection. My lips widen slightly and I look behind me cautiously. Levi lays his head on my back, lips a rosy read and face tinted crimson. A goofy grin draws itself on his face along with a peppered chuckle. “Eren, I can’t believe I found you. Where have you been?” His arms tighten so much that I feel like I’m losing oxygen. I reach down and grip his wrists, ready to retaliate and yell at him ruthlessly. “I _missed_ you.”

It’s like my beating heart carefully held scissors and cut itself from any stability. It pounds furiously on my brawny chest quickly, ringing in my ears and notifying me of danger. Danger, or perhaps simply of something new that I feel keen to. I should not be experiencing this. My throat feels as if it thickens extremely, ceasing me from being able to breathe properly. My lungs influx one more time and halt. I let out a restricted breath and grip his wrist a little longer. Just to feel a little better. Even if it has to half a second. I’ve never experienced that before.

My organs usually stay in place like a normal person. I never knew they could, or ever _would_ , act like this.

I find my voice after coming back to reality. “H-have you been drinking?” I obtain the guts to push his arms away from me. Levi lifts his head off my back and stubbornly glares at me. I shake my head in fake disappointment. The elevator moves unnoticeably. “I can’t fucking believe you! I told you not to head this way and here you are – drunk off your ass in a notably famous law firm! Are you delusional?” Levi frowns at my yelling and reimages his face to form a pout.

“I asked to use the bathroom. I don’t wanna work - ” He burps, “- here _anyways_.” He places his hands on his cheeks and rubs them down, deforming his face for a slight second. “I really have to go, Eren. Where is it? My stomach hurts.”

“You are literally a _child_.” The elevator dings and opens. My eyes widen as I glance over. Luckily, I don’t see Arlert or Smith in the office area. They are probably without a doubt in the penthouse, considering that is where Smith does the majority of his work. I thank god consciously and grab Levi by his elbow. I head to the nearest bathroom and walk into it. I push Levi into a stall and close it. “Hurry up, I’ll make sure no one comes in.” I murmur. Levi hums in understanding.

I just pray no one walks in. God, a fucking sight. _Dr. Jaeger took in a stray alcoholic? Oh, what a humble man_. I shake my head and pinch my eyebrows. My reflection in the mirror catches my attention. I fix my hair unconsciously and try to calm down. Minutes pass and I still don’t hear Levi finishing up. Scowling, I knock on the door in anger. “Hey, hurry the fuck up!”

Silence. I scrunch up my eyebrows and push on the door. He didn’t lock it. The view of Levi slumped on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, and head hanging over the toilet probably made my heart thump a million times faster. I instantly grab his shoulder and shake him, hoping and praying that maybe he just fell asleep. “Levi. _Levi_!” His eyes open quickly and I thank god for about the thousandth time today. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“My stomach hurts. I don’t –“ His eyebrows scrunch up as he places both his hands on his belly. “I think the alcohol was bad.”

“I’m pretty sure alcohol doesn’t do this….” I push him against the wall and look into his eyes. They are still a watery gray, reminding me of a tainted lake. He licks his lips and rubs his nose. “How much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Jesus Christ, Levi!” I bob my head at him. “You can’t just fucking drink as many drinks as you want! That’s how you get fucking alcohol poisoning, you idiot!”

“I heard it all before…” He extends his sentence and waves his hand at me. “Please, don’t make it a big deal.”

“A big deal!? This is not just –“

“…Dr. Jaeger?” I cease in ranting to realize I left to stall door open. Tilting my head, I view Armin Arlert looking upon the scene with a countenance of surprise and curiosity. He scrunches his eyebrows up at me and points to Levi down on the floor. “Is everything okay? I heard ruckus from my cubicle…”

 _‘Oh shit, I didn’t even think he’d be on independent work.’_ I curse myself in my head. I turn my head and try to give a comforting smile. “Oh, we are fine! I just found this guy in here passed out and –“Before I can finish, Levi falls from his position against the wall and descends to the floor. I reach down and grab him again, watching Arlert from the corner of my eye walk closer. He bends down and helps me pull Levi up against the wall again.

“Is he drunk or something? I wonder how he got up here.” Arlert bites his lip and grabs Levi’s face. For a second, I want to yell at him to stop. I subdue it and watch Arlert analyze Levi’s face. “His eyes are way too watery for just alcohol. It looks like he was drugged.”

“What!?” My eyes are wider than dinner plates. Arlert grabs his sluggish body and positions him over the toilet. Levi obtains no control over his body, as he lets Arlert position his body without a care in the world. My heart pounds even faster, but this time in complete _fear_.

“We need to make him throw up. Help me position him so he can throw up in the toilet. If we put him on his knees, the movement might enable him to – h- _hey_!” I grab Levi from Arlert’s arms. Pushing him against the wall, I tug down his jaw and jam my fingers into his mouth. I don’t even think. The instinctive urge to _help_ _him_ overcomes me, along with my heart punching so much that I feel as if it is dying. Levi tries to recoil his head away from me, but I forcefully puncture my fingers to get him to let it out.

A certain flinch from Levi urges me to take my hand out. Transparent vomit floods out of his mouth, somewhat shocking me at the moment considering I expected a pigment. A dissolved pill is distinguishable on the floor. I ignore the smell and grab Levi’s face. “Hey, _hey_. Are you okay?” Levi’s face scrunches up and moves his chin away from my hold. “Answer me. I _need_ to know.”

“That was fucking gross,” He begins coughing and wipes his eyes. “I need to change my clothes.” I sigh and scoff at the same time. Levi lifts his head to stare at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The soft patter of my heart calms. My breath comes out in harmony. I want to smile because I’m so fucking glad he is okay, but is that too weird?

“Dr. Jaeger, I brought some towels...” I neglect the distinct sound of Arlert near me. Levi, however, shifts his head, and for some reason, the bathroom light hits his face in all the right angles. His fierce countenance turns innocent and adoring. Though he looks completely disgusting with vomit running down his chin, I seek a certain relief and rare beauty in knowing he is okay. I genuinely want to smile. I want to grin. I don’t know why, but he looks so gorgeous under this light. And though this has to be one of the most terrible situations to suddenly become _lovestruck_ , it doesn’t cease me from admiring his gentle and fond face. His luminous eyes widen, showcasing his metallic orbs that nevertheless poison me with every glance.

I question why he gazes to his left so longingly. Then I turn my head to see Dr. Smith, and my heart begins punching again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think chapter 15 is my favorite chapter I've written next to 'Breakfast' and 'Into The Front Yard'. idk yet. 
> 
> by the way, thanks to all of you guys for the reviews! I read all of them and they inspire me to write! I never expected this story to have this many people interested. I thought I'd be that one story that has 4 comments and 100k words lmaooo. Even if I was, I'd probably still update out the ass. 
> 
> Anyways, I'll see you guys next weekend (or eariler?? who knows yet). Chaooo


	15. Don't Be A Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get kind of hectic...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning #1: dark humor? idk, some people are sensitive these days. other warnings would spoil the chapter :)  
> warning #2: every character in this story has complexity. therefore, there are never going to be characters who are completely good or bad. Saying this, I do not hate Erwin! I just like ambiguous characters. :D.

 

 I’ve noticed days get a lot shorter when Levi is around. Not only that, but they become less dull. The month hasn’t had a lick of rain since his permanent arrival. I wonder if I’m just exaggerating, and that my spiritual mindset can sometimes be my worst flaw. Nonetheless, the days are brighter. The sun shines through clear skies, and when the clouds are near, they formulate to always focus on his face. He is a walking magnet for light.

Thus, the days are never dull, as I said. Not only that, but Levi himself is never lackluster. I’ve mentioned millions of times that he is simply a troublemaker. He is unrest. There is not a day that goes by where he is not doing something completely ludicrous. Whether that be him trying to make a basketball out of rubber bands, or him trying to dye his hair when he found a gray strand. Often so, I just nod my head and continue with my day. I’d be more concerned if he _didn’t_ do anything radical.

He is a walking lunatic. He harnesses light unattainable by many but uses it to showcase his absurd performances. I can’t stand it, but at the same time, it brings a certain glare into my life. Days aren’t so rainy anymore.

But, his light comes to have disadvantages as well. I often ignore the days he comes home drunk off his ass, bothering me while I’m working or sleeping with his obnoxious singing. Or sometimes when he smokes out on the balcony and comes in the kitchen to make four sandwiches. I see actions I wish not to. I want to neglect them and focus on the good things.

However, as I can stand compacted in a small stall overlooking Levi’s countenance, I wonder if this light he attracts is something I can handle anymore. Those dopey metallic eyes, the curvature of his thin innocent brows, his reddish-hued face.  All looks I’ve never really seen before on him. A look I don’t mind seeing if somehow it were directed toward me.

But it is not.

Armin helps Levi off the floor cautiously. Levi wipes the adoring look off his face and stands. He looks down at the floor, seemingly fearful to gaze me or anyone else in the eyes. “Here is a towel. Dr. Jaeger says he found you passed out in here. Are you okay?” Armin places a hand on Levi’s back. I notice Levi glaring at me from the corner of his eye, probably irritated that I lied about who he was. I want to take it all back. Tell them, _‘no, I know this guy. He is my…my –‘_

“What is your name?” Levi shuffles his figure out of Armin’s hands and grabs the towel available to him. He starts to leave while wiping his face, but the large figure standing in the bathroom blocks his way. I see his figure tense. Armin raises a hand, initiating words, but the elder beats him to it.

“I’m sorry –“ The baritone never sounded louder in my ears. “- I can’t have you leave. I’ve called security and I need to do a brief investigation.” Erwin Smith shuffles his watch on his wrist and looks up at me. “As far as I’m concerned, you are an unsolicited visitor. Not only that, but a _drunk_ one. This may lead to significant renovation on security.” Just by the fixation of Levi’s face, I know he is going to say something out of hand. I walk up and grab Levi by his elbow.

“That is fine.” I blurt. My grip gets tighter, and for a brief second, I see Dr. Smith’s eye peer over my hold. “I will take him down to security and ask them for an evaluation.” I’m not. I’ll probably call him an uber. “I’ll also write a report about what I saw –“

“There is no need,” Dr. Smith waves his hand at my words. “They are already here.” Just as he says that a security guard walks in with an obnoxious amount of volume. Dr. Smith orders them to place handcuffs on Levi. As they head towards me and ask me to unhand him, I scrutinize their forms harshly.

“I don’t think this is neces –“ Levi pushes his grip away from mine and holds his wrists out irritatingly. I look down at him in slight shock. From our last experience with the police, I expected him to at least put up half of a fight.

“Armin, can you call the custodian to clean up this mess? I’m going to contact floor one.” Dr. Smith addresses Armin. The blonde-haired boy nods and immediately heads out the bathroom, completely oblivious to the growing tension in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom…

“We should probably take this to a more open area.” I assert to my _boss_. “Though this entire floor is essentially your domain, I don’t think it is becoming of you to deal with issues in a compacted environment, nonetheless the washroom.” I watch the security look over at Dr. Smith questioningly. The male nods in understanding and waves his hand at the men. They don’t grab Levi, as the small male follows willingly with no problem. I thank god at his compliance and begin to follow. However, I am stopped by Dr. Smith clearing his throat.

“Do you know this man? –“ He questions, “ – I have never known you to care so much for a seemingly homeless male.” I want to turn around and grab him by his throat. Slam him against the wall and mutter against his infuriating face to _mind his fucking business_. “Dr. Jaeger?”

“I came upstairs to check on my intern that you officially but _unofficially_ took from me.”  I shuffle my collar unnoticeably. “I have no relation to this stranger. I am just concerned as to how he got up here. But if I may be a bit more direct, we are in the central city of New York.” My head turns slightly to view Dr. Smith’s questionable face. “We have had _plenty_ of these mishaps. I wonder what makes you question my honesty this time, sir. I am sure people of our _caliber_ never truly want to know people like him.”

“Not questioning, just merely intrigued.” Dr. Smith places his hand on my shoulder. Anger shudders through me. I wonder why I harbor so much detest for this man. Possibly it stems from my lackluster career, or perhaps the fact he is a hardass for no reason. Nevertheless, I can’t stand him. “And I wouldn’t be so quick to judge, because if I may say, I know this man _pretty_ well.”

It’s as if he knew the look. The gaze, the longing shown in Levi’s eyes. I watch as Dr. Smith walks past me with no other comment. I clutch my fist together and close my eyes. Why does that make me so angry? Why does it also implement a form a fear in me as well? What am I afraid of? The sound of the bathroom door leaves me in a subtle silence. The stench of the vomit then hits my nose and pesters me to walk out. So I do, but not without trying to shake off the uneasy feeling building in my stomach.

 

“Dr. Jaeger, it is nice to see you again!” The security guard outside brings me in for a brief hug. I flinch at the aggressiveness and pat him on his back. “You never greet us anymore! What’s wrong, you finally become too big of a hot-shot now?” His raspy voice brings a subtle headache, but I neglect it and give a brief smile.

“No, no – I’ve been busy. How is your wife?” I search my thoughts for remembrance. “Mary Jane, is it? I hear she is pregnant?”

“Ah, how did you know!?” The security guard belches out a loud laugh and pats me aggressively on the back. I point to his pin attached to his shirt, showcasing the bold words _‘Worlds Best Dad’_. He looks down and chuckles once more. “You are so smart! You know, I wish I had a kid like you back in my day to take my tests. Maybe I’d be in college still right now.” He elbows me. I nod and initiate a handshake.

“Alright, it was nice talking to you, but I best check in on him. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Will do, Dr. Jaeger! Don’t be a stranger!” I nod my head again and walk up to Dr. Smith’s office. I knock slightly, hoping he would hear. When he doesn’t, I end up just opening the door and viewing Levi sitting on his office couch, munching banana slices.

“What the fuck – “ I blurt. “He gave you _snacks_.” Levi ignores me and eats the banana slice with his hands still tied together with the handcuffs. I shake my head and walk over. “Where did he go?”

“Fuck if I know. He just came in, gave me some fruit, and left. Fucking weirdo.” Levi holds out his handcuffs. “Come on, take these off. I _know_ you got the key, ” I want to cross my arms and stubbornly tell him that I didn’t just steal them off the security guard. But considering I used him as a scapegoat, I should at least get him out of the stupid handcuffs.

“Fine.” I pull out the key from my pocket and grab his hands. Placing the key in the hole, I twist. However, the minute I pull the handcuffs, Dr. Smith’s door opens slowly. I jerk my hand away and watch Levi instantly place his hands between his lap. I awkwardly stand in front of Levi as if I was just having a conversation.

Arlert walks in. He notices my presence and gives a small smile. He holds some steaming tea in his hands. He walks over to Levi and places the tea down onto the table. “For you. I was told it would help with your sickness.”

“I don’t like tea.” Levi immediately says. I roll my eyes at his inconsiderate mouth.

“Just drink it.”

“Do I know you?” Levi plays the game well. He looks at me in confusion and shakes his head in fake distress. “You literally just walked in here and stared at me. You are a fucking creep.”

“Wha –“

“Honestly –“ Levi stares at Arlert with the most innocent look demand. “This guy walked in here and sized me up and down. I feel objectified and judged. I may be obligated to set up a lawsuit against this place. I mean, the most well-known law firm in the city, full of perverts? I can’t believe my ears.” He shakes his head and sighs. The tea sitting on table lifts with his nimble fingers gripping the top oddly. I question his technique, but when he flawlessly downs the liquid with the subtle tilt of the cup, I wonder how much odder Levi can get these days.

Arlert believes the whole thing. His jaw drops slightly and gives me a sly look. “S-sir. I am so _sorry_. If you feel uncomfortable, you are able to speak to Dr. Smith or any others about your issue. Your voice is valuable, no matter your background.” I rub the space between my eyes in annoyance. “Dr. Jaeger, do you think you can leave? I think this man is very uncomfortable near you….”

“What – no!” I yell. “He is fucking with you! He is just trying to start trouble, as _always_.”

“As always?” Arlert’s jaw drops once more. “I feel it is very inconsiderate of you to address this man like so. No matter his circumstances, he has rights to be treated with utmost respect, especially within the confines of the law firm. It says specifically in the code of conduct that –“

“You know what, fine.” I raise my hands in frustration. I neglect to see Levi chuckling behind his mouth while sipping on his tea in the weirdest fucking way. Psycho. All of these people. Psychos! “I’m leaving. I will email my side of the investigation. Other than that, do not contact me. I’m done with this situation.” My body hurriedly heads toward the exit. I hear Arlert open his mouth to admit a response, but with the slam of Dr. Smith’s door, I’m sure it would have been futile.

I have better things to do than this.

 

Bananas have always helped me with hangovers. My only problem is that I fucking hate them. After a while of only having them when you puke your brains out, the taste becomes a bit more conditioned. Anyway, I’m still tipsy, and I still have a headache. The banana didn’t help, so I don’t know why Erwin still tries to give me the shit.

And the black tea. _Wow_. What a fucking suck-up. He even put the tiniest bit of sugar and ginger. God, had I known he still lived here, I would have moved back to fucking Texas. But how clueless am I? Dr. _Smith_. How had it not clicked before then? Probably because his name is as common as the words on simple crossword puzzles. I roll my eyes and swallow a chuckle. The tea’s steam under my fingers relaxes me. I haven’t drunk tea in a while.

“Are you okay?” The blonde-haired boy in the room asks me after Eren leaves. I nod my head and wipe my mouth from the leftover liquid. “I’m sorry you felt so uncomfortable. I’ll be sure to tell Dr. Smith about this –“

“I was lying.” I take another sip. “Though, I find it admiring how much you care. Not many could say the same, so good for you.” The boy’s eyebrows raised in shock. “Probably wouldn’t mind if he did look at me like that. Whoa –“ I blurt out a chuckle at the comment. What the hell? “I must be tipsy. I did not just say that.” Another round of chuckles emits from me. Yeah, _definitely_ still tipsy.

Before the boy can respond, probably about how I shouldn’t joke about such things, the man of the hour enters. Erwin Smith walks through the door silently, like a sly fox, and cuddles a phone between his ears. Just for the sake of being evil, I want to start screaming and yelling to interrupt him. But I’m twenty-four, so I can’t do that. _Damn_.

When he gets off the phone, he addresses the blond-haired boy nonchalantly. “Armin, could you go get Dr. Jaeger for me? Tell him that his shift is shortened today.”

“A-ah, yes sir!” Armin nods his head and walks out of the office with a look of distress. I smirk and place the tea down onto the table. Erwin waits until the door closes officially to speak up.

“How is the tea?” Erwin struts over to the couch near me and crosses his arms. I roll my eyes at his dominant nature and lean against the couch. “I added ginger. Can I assume you feel better?”

“I don’t know –“ I cross my legs and lick my lips in thought. “ – considering I’m in the same room of the person I never wanted to see again, I’d like to say I feel worse. But the tea was decent, so at least the taste of strong tequila is out my mouth.”

“You act as if I would know you were in New York.”

“We should have this list we email each other every month –“ I begin my trail of thought. “ – you know, where maybe you email me where you will be so I can be sure to never pass you in my life ever again? I think that will be _so_ beneficial.” I shuffle my legs and hide a smirk. “Either way, we can’t change where we are. So, you actually own a law firm? How political.”

“…I wouldn’t call it that.”

“How is Mike?“ I didn’t want to mention it, but I couldn’t help it. It had been budging against me ever since I saw him in the bathroom. Erwin sighs and grabs the teacup on the table.

“I think our discussion should stop here. You haven’t changed –“ He analyzes the teacup noticeably. “ – at all.”

“I would disagree and tell you to fuck off, but you are right.” I stand up from the couch and ignore the handcuffs falling to the ground. “If anything, I probably got worse. But what’s new, right?” I rub my wrist and cross my arms. He stands so tall over me. I want to sit back down and just let him maintain control. It has always been this way between us. A constant battle between who is the ruling one. For a second, I think maybe backing down to his authoritative aura will do me good. But I know I’m not that type of person. I will _never_ be that person.

Erwin takes a small sip of the tea. It is noticeably in the same place my lips were. I scowl. Erwin hides his smirk. “So, mind telling me how you got the handcuffs off?” He takes another antagonizing sip. I grab the cup from his mouth, not caring that it splashes onto the table, and clutch it in my hands.

“Don’t drink after me, you beast.”

“We have done plenty worse.” I roll my eyes at his arrogant tone of voice and slam the cup onto the table. “Do you know that boy? Eren Jaeger. You know him?” He repeats it in a certain agency, but his voice is as nonchalant as ever. I scoff and place my hands on my hips.

“I do. We fuck _every_ night. Even on the ceiling, just as skilled and _fast_ as Spiderman on drugs.” Erwin rolls his eyes at my sarcasm and uncrosses his arms. His fingers hang on his belt cockily.

“Don’t joke around, Levi.” He shakes his head. “I’m serious. I need to know.”

“For what?” The pitch of my voice raises. “I’m not obligated to tell you anything anymore. Go fuck yourself, or Mike, because you know, you do that now.” The tension in Erwin’s form is distinct. Every time he shudders, it makes me want to mention him _more_ and _more_. “I don’t know him. He is a stranger. Why would I ever _fuck a stranger_?”

Our eyes meet in realization. We both probably think in the back of our heads of why it all happened. _This_ is why. The essence of fire and water colliding, one overpowering the other dependent on the amount. Our roles often switch, but Erwin usually becomes the water, diminishing my warm hue with his fluid form. Taking over me, dominating me, controlling me. Leaving me with skimp care. He became a lake, then a river, and before he became an ocean – he met _ice_. But I was not his ice. I was still that fire simmering away, waiting to dominate at the right second.

Nevertheless, the second never came.

“Well, I hope you know this stranger pretty well.” Erwin breaks the silence with his voice. “I told Dr. Jaeger he could leave early to take you to a hotel at the Rose Inn. It should be under my name. I have already paid for the week.” He turns his form away from me to walk to his desk. He pulls out a business card from under his lamp and hands it over to me. “Call me if you need me to pay for another week. Otherwise, I hope you are doing well and not living in a shithole, Levi.”

 _‘Oh, you have no idea’_ I think to myself. “No problem. Eren will be happy to.” I ignore the fact I called him by his first name. Erwin’s card fits between my thumb and index finger like a blade. My eyes gaze at the formal card before tearing it in half. I throw it onto the table and begin to walk toward the door to leave. Erwin shakes his head at me and wonders over to his office desk once more.

“I expect nothing less.” He mutters. I tell myself to ignore it, but the overwhelming feelings of guilt, disappointment, anger, and affection overcome my walk down the stairs to Eren Jaeger.

 

Eren takes me home without a lick of concern of what I went through. He gets the call that he is off work and meets me downstairs in the lobby. He doesn’t talk to me. I don’t mind. I don’t feel like talking either.

We enter his Bentley the same as always. The sun above is absent, covered by dense gray clouds and threatening to storm. Eren immediately turns on the heat and gazes at the sky for a long while. I wonder what he is thinking about, but I assume it is not my place to ask. However, after a few minutes past with him gazing upon the sky, I call out his name. “Eren?”

He jerks from his gaze and looks over at me. His eyes are glossy, but not glossy enough to be tears. He blinks and sense comes back to him. He murmurs an apology and pulls out his phone. “I need to tell my mom I’m on my way home.” I want to make fun of him. What twenty-eight-year-old calls his mom before he goes home? I end up refraining from it and chuckling to myself. Eren must have noticed my reaction. “She doesn’t like when I come home unnoticed. Tells me it interrupts her ‘me’ time.” He rolls his eyes at the thought. I nod my head in understanding.

The drive home is relatively silent. Eren plays some soft music that enhances our car ride. Raindrops start to softly drip against the window. Thunder is rumbling in the background. All these sounds make up the music, as if adding a sense of appeal to it all. I sigh from my seat and ignore Eren is who still trying to call his mother. He glares at his phone that is hanging from his air vent when she doesn’t answer. I tell him to shut up and to not worry. She is probably sleeping.

The rain gets worse when we try to park into Eren’s garage. It won’t open, so he ends up parking near the center fountain. I unbuckle my seatbelt and jump out of the car, ignoring the pouring rain that feels like bricks on my skin. Eren shakes his head and murmurs insults. “She is gonna get all muddy. I’m gonna have to take her for a wash tomorrow.” I make no smart comment. I get a head start into the house. The hefty door never becomes easy to open. As I enter the house, leaving Eren who is walking unbelievable slow up the steps, I hear the brief sounds of moaning.

And there go the strangers. The troublemakers of it all. The two I really don’t know well, cuddled up against the couch in an intimate embrace. Her silky walnut hair falls along her back, noticeably covered in sweat and sticking to her naked back. His hair is just as long, but a bit more of a midnight black, and flows over the back of the couch. She wraps her arms around his neck and groans out his name, her red breast pressed against his naked chest. His rugged palm clutches her back and leaves cat-like marks.

My stance is still. Her eyes open from her overpowering orgasm and she sees me. The fear in her eyes spread like a disease. She lifts her body up and covers her naked form. The male turns his head and his eyes widen. I shake my head and turn around. My hands grip the doorknob to close the door, but Eren’s hand stops me.

“What’s wrong?” I turn around completely and place my hands against his chest. The feeling reminds me of the sight I just saw. I push him slightly and try to close the door behind me.

“Don’t go in there.” I can’t help the desperation in my voice. “Seriously, I’m _not_ joking.” I have seen this sight many times, and though it wasn’t particularly with these people, I can imagine how distraught he would be. To see the two who caused this all. To see the two who had been fooling us, engaging in such affairs that go against all values they have put forth. So, for the sake of Eren’s _sanity_ , I press up against him harder.

Eren’s dominance is not _dominance_. If anything, we are the same. We are both the fire. And when collided, we manifest into something colossal. Something fierier. However, when Eren grabs my hand and softly takes it off his chest, the fire dims. I swallow my defiance. This has nothing to do with _power_. The door handle has already been released from my hand and it immediately opens. I know he has seen it. I know he has.

All I can see is his face. The slow transition of his emotions makes my heart yearn. I know how it feels. I know how it feels. You can’t do anything about it, Eren. _You are just a child. This is grown-up’s business_.

Seconds to minutes pass by. They shuffle and try to explain themselves. Eren can’t speak. I wonder if he can even breathe. So, I place my hand on his chest again and he lets me push him away from it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading this at 12:00 am, eating a Qdoba burrito bowel with a gallon of water by my side. The good life.


	16. It Remind Me of Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren doesn't know how to deal with his emotions, so what's better than to get stoned with your step-brother? Well ... a lot actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good news: medical marijuana is now legal where I live. thank, fucking, god.  
> bad news: eren gets a lil emotional ya know i'm not gonna lie

_“Your hair is white now. Looks soft too. It reminds me of clouds.” She rolls her eyes at the flimsy male’s comment. Twirling a curl of her silky hair, she gives him a sly grin that reminds him of a cat. He chuckles before handing her a dollar bill. She gazes down at it and recoils cautiously. “You need a dollar to play. Here you go.” Here he was, handing over this elegant, wealthy woman a crumpled-up dollar as if she didn’t have slim ones within her velvet wallet. But she didn’t tell him that._

_“Thank you. And my hair is not like the clouds, thank you very much.” She snatches the tattered bill and tries to flatten it out. With the touch of her silky fingers, the dollar seemed to be as good as new. She places the money into the machine and waits for it to light up. When it does, the male can’t help but admire her gorgeous countenance. He had never seen anything that resembled the Sun so much._

_He wondered if she ever had the same thoughts. Had she thought of him as the moon? Were they in some way compatible, or were they actually not meant to be? The Sun always outshines the moon, though it is always there. Perhaps she is too bright for him._

_“My parents divorced.” – she blurts. He stiffens and watches as she plays the arcade game nonchalantly. “My father is a pig, like most men.” His heart falters at her words. But he doesn’t respond. All he can think of is the Sun, and how if her hair was still red, it would resemble the flaring crimson corona. He is so in love. She is the Sun, yet he isn’t even merely the moon. If anything, he is a distant gas giant, floating among the universe with no visibility to naked-eye. Or perhaps he is a supernova, hanging on to a couple of years of life before imploding. He isn’t sure anymore._

_All he knew is that he’d stare at the Sun for days and days, and though his eyes are now glimmering with white agony, he can’t get himself to look away. Why do the most beautiful objects have to be the most tormenting as well?_

My novel has ceased writing itself from there. My fingers grew stiff after typing for hours. The moonlight eventually started reprimanding me, telling me to go sleep because I had work in the morning. It illuminated the left side of my bed, where a lump was sleeping as if it didn’t have its own area downstairs. There is also the faint sound of snoring from the animal at the foot of the bed. Eddy grew a lot. I regret not taking pictures, as odd as it sounds. I find myself missing his small form.

I wondered when my bed turned into a family zone. After a while, Levi’s complaints that the couch is uncomfortable, or the basement is too cold, or the living room is too silent, left me to succumb to his demands about sleeping in my bed. It bothered me at first, considering the only people I let sleep in my bed are _women_. But after a demeaning shouting match with Levi about it, I learn that sometimes it is best to shut up when around such a hostile person.

Yet, Initial thoughts about Levi among meeting him is that he isn’t the smartest guy in the world. He is the type of person to claim the Rock and Dwyane Johnson are different people or ask what day is Cinco De Mayo. In knowing this, I expected myself to not take a lick of advice from him. But oddly, it’s the opposite. Levi is actually the type of person to use a fork to dip his Oreo cookies because we all hate feeling the cold milk on our fingertips. He is the type of person who can make lasagna in a microwave, or make a phone holder out of a paperclip, or make a homemade speaker out of two red cups and some rubber bands. He is the type of person that makes you sit down, shake your head, and say “damn… _I_ should have thought of that.”

I know Levi is blunt as well. He doesn’t hold his tongue for anybody, and it’s even worse when he is high off his mind. I’ll never forget the moment he told me I looked like a disgusting fat mutt with my hair wet, and when I wrapped my hair in a towel, he told me I looked like a middle-aged fat white woman who just came out of a spa treatment. I can’t win either way with him, so I usually ignore his advice, though sometimes they do leave lasting impressions.

But in essence, I’ve come to learn Levi is the embodiment of everything _original_. He isn’t the type of person I’ve met before. He doesn’t try to shove knowledge down my throat but only tries to shove his _truth_. There is nothing false about him. It is as if honesty manifested itself into a human being, and in doing so it replicated a twenty-four-year-old maniac alcoholic.

So, I know when Levi tells me not to walk into my own house, that he is _serious_. Jokes aside, I’ve come to learn him. I know how he looks when he is angry, sad, tired, or simply bored. But this _look_ , it entitled desperation – something I had never seen on him. Levi doesn’t beg for anything. It is either yes or no, and he will deal with the consequences later. That look. That look _scared_ me for a second. It was like seeing your mother cry for the first time. It fragmented my interpretation of him, for I had never seen that _look_ on his face.

Pity. _What do you pity me for?_

I feel humiliated.

All this time. All this time, I had been _grieving_ over it all. I had been demolished within because of them. I had always wanted them to be together. I wanted my father and mother to be one. I wished for it for so long. For things to go back to normal. But when they slap my hand over and over again, yelling at me, screaming at me, telling me _“No, Eren! We are not a family anymore!”_ – I am entitled to believe so. I grew accustomed. I started to forgive my father, because though he had married a woman I didn’t like, he had opened me up to a world with Levi in it – someone I appreciate for reasons unknown. I started to forgive my mother because even though she drives me up the wall, she had moved on.

I felt like I could move on, too. Perhaps I didn’t need to hold in all this hate. Life didn’t have to be so bad. The wedding, that night, did not have to be the ending of it all.

But all this time, the _forbidden fruit_ had been munched on. It had been chopped and served on eloquent plates, served into the mouths of my mother and father. All this time, I had been the fool. I had been the kid who didn’t know about anything. The lonely child, oblivious to his parent’s actions. I never wanted to be that kid again. I told myself _, I would never be that kid again_.

The Bentley is low on gas, so I take the mini coupe. The last time I drove it had been near the wedding. The minute I open the door, a stench fills my nose. I ignore it for once. I remember Levi and I’s food fight. I want to smirk at the memory, but it isn’t the right time. I jump inside and pull out my keys. I try and put the keys in the ignition, but I keep missing the slot. I eventually feel a warm embrace on my knuckles, guiding me and turning on the ignition.

I almost forget Levi is here.

_Do you pity me for what you saw?_

The radio plays the soft tune of Minnie Riperton. It brings me all back. It reminds me of how it all started. I turn the radio all the way down and begin driving. I don’t want to be reminded of that night at all.

I drive. The windows roll down. Levi is silent next to me. I wonder what he is thinking. Should I ask?

“What are you thinking about?” God, this may be the first time I feel the slightest bit insecure. I lean against the driver’s seat and bite my lip. “You are too quiet. Speak.” Levi’s confusion manifests quickly. He ends up scoffing and shaking his head.

“You just caught your divorced mom and dad committing adultery, and you are asking me if _I’m_ okay?” Levi blurts out-loud. I want to flinch at the words. “Where are we going?”

“…I’m just driving.” It comes out in a low pitch.

“Well, you should probably pick a destination. I don’t fancy going miles and miles for no fucking reason.”

“How about you stop complaining for once?”

“How about you –“ He sits up in his seat. “ – stop acting so fucking reckless and park this dumbass small car? I forgot how tiny it is.” He suddenly reaches down and pulls out a glass bottle from under the seat. “Wow, you still have this?” Levi shakes the bottle of tequila I bought him the first night we met. It is still relatively full, though I’m sure I thought he finished it all with his dry ass throat. I shake my head and lick my lips.

“Where are we gonna do, huh? My condo is an hour away and I don’t want to drive that fucking far. I just saw – “ I pause. “ – _that_ , and I don’t want to step even a fucking foot in that house right now.” My fingers clench the steering wheel. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I could without wanting to…. I don’t –“ I take a deep shaky breath. “…want you to think I’m….I _can’t_ –“

“Head to Rose Inn.” Levi’s voice sounds so smooth compared to my shaky one. I look away from the road to see Levi gazing out the window. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I understand.” He tilts his head toward me and raises an eyebrow. “And don’t think I pity you or something. If anything, I’m upset because I had to see your mom’s boobs again.” He sighs in displeasure. “As a gay male, I do not find that shit appealing at _all_.”

“Shut _up_ , Levi. This is not the time to be joking about shit –“

“Then get that fucking look off your face, _Eren_.” Levi lifts himself off the seat and glares at me. “Looking like I _blame_ you for this, or that this is all your fault. I’m sick of seeing it.” He scoffs and crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not. This shit just happens. You can’t help it.”

I believe him.

 

“Good morning, or is it evening? I don’t know anymore. Anyway…” Levi scratches the back of his neck as he leans against the counter at Rose Inn. “I have a room under the name Erwin Smith. I don’t have an ID, but I do have an old Facebook photo of his that can do the trick.” He begins pulling out his, or _my_ , phone from his back pocket. “His hair is mad short, but I think you can still tell he is a douchebag.”

“Um, sir, t-that’s fine.” The receptionist blushes at Levi’s comments. Levi raises an eyebrow at her comment. “He let us know you would be coming. I’ll go ahead and get your key card.” Levi rolls his eyes as she starts looking for the card.

“Oh, he _knew_ I would be coming? Tell me, what did he look like when he said it? Did he have that cocky look on his face, or was he all sad and shit?” Levi slams his fist on the table. “Damn-it! We should have gone to the fucking Holiday Inn.”

“Levi _, shut the fuck up_ , you psycho.” I pull out my wallet from my back pocket and pull out a ten-dollar bill. “This is a nice hotel and here you are acting like an idiot! Here you go, ma’am.” The woman ceases in searching for our room card and gives another slight blush. She takes it slowly, but before she can respond, I turn toward Levi and lean against the counter. “But my main concern is why the hell my boss decided to pay for a thousand-dollar hotel suite for you – a _stranger_. Care to tell me why?”

“We went to high school together,” Levi says nonchalantly. I scowl and lean forward.

“He is two years older than me! You couldn’t have!”

“It’s none of your business. Maybe he was just being a nice person, but I don’t expect you to know what that is like.”

“Eat shit. You know, I just went through a traumatizing moment _literally forty minutes ago_ and you still treat me like I’m a fucking piece of –“

“Um, sir…” We both turn our head toward the receptionist who holds our key card in her hands. Levi snatches it and murmurs a thank you before quickly walking to the elevator. I bid her a goodnight and follow after him.

“Listen, this conversation isn’t over…” I tell him as he waits for the elevator to come. He rolls his eyes at me nonchalantly. When we get into the elevator, Levi presses the button for the tenth floor. I scrunch my eyebrows at him in confusion, and then it hits me.

He got him the fucking penthouse suite. Of course. _Of course_.

“…I think this is the wrong suite. Come on, let's go back in – _Eren_!” The minute we walk into the penthouse, there is a bouquet of flowers mounted on top of the kitchen counter. My jaw drops at the sight. I look over at Levi, and back at the flowers, and back at Levi _. Oh hell no_.

“Are you fucking _joking_ me? Are you and Smith…”

“ _No_! He did this –“ Levi lets out a deep groan and runs his hands down his face. “I _hate_ roses! He does this shit on purpose. He knew…god I can’t _stand_ him!” Levi grabs the roses on the counter and looks for a trashcan. “He does this shit to joke around.” The minute the roses leave the counter, a rectangular box is revealed under. I glare at it in suspicion. Levi does too.

“What is this?”

“I don’t know!” Levi growls out. “Did I open it, dipshit?” Instinctively, I grab the box and open it. It reveals a dark, glass bottle full of alcohol. I scrunch up my eyebrows at the ‘gift’ and make eye contact with Levi. When Levi notices what is inside, it is like his eyes gloss over to hide every emotion upwelling into his head. I wonder if he felt happiness, sadness, or frustration at the gift. By the looks of it, the bottle is custom designed, telling by the cursive letters of ‘ _Levi’_ on the bottom of the bottle. I pick up the bottle and inspect it.

I want to throw it onto the ground. The glass shattering would satisfy me. But moreover, I would be able to see the depths of his emotions. Would he shout? Would he smile? Or would he not care and just move on about his day? I wonder and question about how Levi would react. I want to know what he is feeling. Why? The greedy demon developing before me erupts in screams, pounding its chest and becoming eager to gnaw its enemies. This demon called _jealousy_ , a newfound manifestation, subsides within me this minute. I’d never seen it before. Levi ceases from clutching the roses in his hands and places it onto the counter. Petals fall to the ground, making a mess onto the pristine kitchen floor. My thumb runs over the rim. I twist open the bottle that is strangely not hard to access. Holding it by the body, I stroll over to the sink and begin pouring it down the drain. Levi doesn’t stop me. He only watches.

As the lasting droplets of alcohol pour down the drain, I drop the bottle into the sink without a care. I wipe my hands and glance over at Levi. He pushes the flowers away and sighs. Digging in his pocket, he pulls out a small plastic bag full of green crumbs. He also pulls out the half-empty bottle of tequila from the back of his oversized sweatpants. “Should we throw this out too?” He questions.

I don’t know how to answer.

Minutes later, Levi tucks some sheets and covers under the bedroom door. He also covers the fire alarm with a plastic bag. I would have never thought of it. My dumbass probably would have gotten caught if I were alone. Minute later, our room becomes a dragon’s lair once more. I start to regret it from the first smoke. I shouldn’t be doing this. It isn’t how you solve your problems. _This is what makes people drug addicts, you fucking idiot_.

But the feeling is pleasurable. It makes my mind hazy, and knowing Levi is right here beside me, partaking in the same toxic behavior, it calms me a bit. It becomes a cycle until the last droplet of poison is flowing on my damp tongue. I feel like I’m among the sky. Levi sits on the left of me beside the bed. It’s like we are both floating on clouds.  I smirk at the thought. The clouds would be a nice place to be right now. Especially next to him. Levi taps the ashes onto a rose petal, deeming it worthy as an ashtray. Laughing softly, I turn onto my side and watch him blow the smoke out his nose.

I wonder how many times I have to see a dragon until I get scared.

“Here.” He pinches the now roach over at me. I shake my head and run my hand through my hair. Levi shakes his head with a slur under his breath. “Jus’ take it. You won’t burn your lip.”

“No, asshole.” I lift myself up from the bed and push his hand away. “Burn your shit for all I care.” Levi chuckles and smokes the last bit. He dims the rest on the rose and places it onto the nightstand. The smoke begins to clear up once me and Levi decide to lay down. We share the covers.

There is no moon to illuminate the bed like it usually does back at home. We lay in complete silence and darkness. It reminds me of how we even got here. I clench my eyes closed and let out a deep sigh. The image plays over and over again. My mother, my father. I think of Mikasa. She wouldn’t care. She wouldn’t understand the _agony_ seeing it put me through. No one would understand this complex feeling I can’t describe.

I don’t know if it was because of all the bad toxins we consumed, or perhaps because the calm of the night awakens sadness in me, but I start to cry. The transparent droplets fall down my reddened cheeks and my throat starts to constrict. I can’t breathe for a second, and those seconds turn into minutes. My chest falls up and down quickly. My nose tries to suck in air, but the movement of breath in and out of my mouth halts its success. My heart hurts. It all hurts _so bad_. I want to cower into the corner like a child and cry myself to sleep. I want the clouds I’m imagining to take me away.

His whole body feels like a desert next to mine. He doesn’t sweat, but only emits heat like a radiator. I imagine that he notices, and he turns instantly in the bed toward me. He would wipe my rainfall away with his stained thumbs. He would gaze at me like I’m some forsaken star.

I imagine him drying up the river cuddling my cupids bow with his sandy lips. Maybe it would feel like a desert at first, but with the mixture of my man-made lake, it would feel like a wetland. I would respond desperately. I would yearn for the dryness.

In my dreams, his eyelids are closed, but his lips are moving against mine like the love stories I write on Sunday mornings. The wetland gets wetter, _quicker_ , deeper, and it almost feels like I’m falling down a pit.

He would run his hands up the back of my neck and into my hair. As he does, he would reign over my body and releases his onyx locks over my face.  My breath would hitch and shake. When he would release my lips from enrapturement, he would bite his own. They are glimmering red. He would embrace me closely, where I can finally smell the alcohol and marijuana so distinct on his breath, and murmur so softly in my ear – _“don’t cry.”_

I can float among these imaginary clouds as long as my eyes are closed. But that doesn’t change the fact he doesn’t notice. He falls asleep to the soft hitches in my breath.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is 2,000 words longer and I am so excited to post it, as usual. I had some trouble with this chapter because I really didn't know how to treat Eren's aftermath, considering I am characterizing him as a very isolated and closed-off individual (just as Levi, of course, which is one of the reasons why their romance is so slow). So I decided I wasn't going to have him open up at all. Well...until a couple chapters anyways.
> 
> But, another central theme of this story is addressing how excessive drugs/alcohol are used to diminish or marginalize adversaries in these characters. In doing so, I'm hoping to bring attention to the fact that excessive drugs/alcohol use do not, in fact, rid these characters of their troubles, but only hold their problems off until their emotions overtake them. Hopefully, in addressing this, you guys don't think I'm just a stoner who likes writing her character's high (which I won't lie, it is mildly entertaining lmao). I have my reasons! ;) (also, this isn't to attack anyone who does smoke or drink. we all do it yo, tbh)
> 
> next chapter: we have 5,500 words worth of Levi's past and how it affects his growing affection for Eren. See you then!


	17. The Erotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a slight glimpse into Levi's past (really just the big pictures) and of course - a little argument between the lovebirds! Well... almost lovebirds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter mayyyy be late, I'm not sure. I'm cooking the entire Thanksgiving meal for my family so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. But either way, it will be up before December hits! (Also, this chapter is inspired by Audre Lorde's "Uses Of The Erotic: The Erotic as Power". Fascinating book btw)

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I shuffle in the tight, gray skinny jeans Isabel let me borrow. She shakes her head at me and continues to click her pen over and over again. “What – still mad I moved out or somethin’?” I roll up the sleeves of the black shirt as I speak.

“No, Levi. Jus’ leave me alone.” She turns away from me and continues to work on her school homework. I roll my eyes and continue to dress up. As I finish cleaning up Isabel’s room from the mess I made, I hear Isabel sigh and turn around in her chair. “I’m upset.” I pause in cleaning.

“Okay…” I linger. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” My frustration starts to build up. I hate when she gets like this. “You always get mad at me for something. I came here to borrow some clothes, not start an argument with you.”

“Well, I do!” Isabel jumps up out of her chair and crosses her arms at me. “You leave home right after Christmas, Levi, to move in with your twenty-four-year-old _boyfriend_. I know Momma said so, but _my_ Daddy said you can stay, so you can stay. Okay?”

“…that is not how it works, Izzy.” I chuckle softly. “It’s fine. I’m happy where I am.”

“No – “ She stubbornly says. “Listen…I talked to Momma alright? Right now, she is over at her old apartment because her and Daddy got into a fight, but I think you should visit and ask her if you can stay. Please?” She sits back down onto the chair with desperation on her face. “Please, Levi. I don’t want to lose you.”

I cease in fixing my appearance and gaze at the wall silently. My eyes stay focused, wondering why I have to go through this. I shake my head out of that thinking and nod slowly. “…yeah, okay. I’ll head over tonight.” Isabel jumps in joy, not even noticing the dip in my brow. I watch as she rambles on about how we were going to play video games, and how I could teach her how to cook, but I just end up wishing she would stop talking for once. Stop talking about things she doesn’t understand.

 **_new message_ ** _: eyebrows_

_are you done? i have work._

“Listen, Izzy, I have to go. Erwin is waiting on me.” Isabel nods in understanding. I give her a brief hug and open her window. I jump out and land onto the mini-roof. Erwin’s burgundy Buick is parked across the street, trying not to be noticeable to my step-father who is home. I begin walking on the sidewalk toward the vehicle.

“I got you…” Erwin immediately begins talking as I enter the car. He pulls out a plastic bag, full of stuff I didn’t ask for. He assumes it makes me happy to receive stuff like this, considering I don’t like flowers or chocolate. He doesn’t understand that I simply don’t like being treated like a girl. Or perhaps, I don’t like being treated that way by him. “ – some stuff. Picked it up on the way.” He murmurs as he hands it to me.

I open up the plastic bag to see some extra cash, frozen food, bananas, tea packets, and a thick bottle of patron. My head begins to nod instinctively as I place the plastic bag onto the ground after putting the money into my pocket. Erwin doesn’t notice the way my face falls at the sight. He only looks over at me, smiles widely, and widens his arm over to my seat. “No thank you?” My eyes raise up to glare at him. I kiss my palm and slap his cheek, chuckling to myself at the joke. He doesn’t find it funny.

“I just bought you this, Levi.”

“I didn’t ask you to get it. And I gave you one –“ I repeat the motion by kissing my palm and attaching it to his cheek. “See?”

“…Am I dropping you off home?” He dilutes the situation with disapproval on his tongue. I shake my head and lean against the passenger seat.

“Drop me off near Ronnie’s. I’m gonna go see Mom in an hour.”

“Are you serious –“ Erwin snatches his hand off the wheel to glare at me. “What are you going to her for? I don’t want to deal with that tonight, Levi. Let me just drop you off at home.”

“What do you mean – ‘that’?” I question with attitude building in my voice. “You just bought me a fucking bottle of patron, but you have the nerve to complain about _that_...”

“I bought you that so you’d stop being an old hag and start acting like a boyfriend. Or is that too much for you?” Erwin begins. I roll my eyes and reach down to grab the bag. “I buy you food, it’s a no. I buy you patron, it’s a no. I buy you tea – and guess what? Still a fucking no. Is it truly wrong for me to have to beg, Levi?”

I ignore everything he says. I grab the plastic bag and throw open the passenger door. Jumping out, I slam the door closed and yell at Erwin from the window. “You know, maybe I’d care if fucking me at two in the morning with adult swim playing in the background is not your top fucking priority. Oh, and something exciting? Here – don’t worry -” I grab the bottle of patron and open the cap. Erwin doesn’t see the first splash coming as I start throwing the alcohol on him. He yells, cursing at me, and undoes his seatbelt to see wet pants and shirt. I throw the glass bottle in his lap. “There is your fucking excitement. _Fuck you_ , you big-dicked cyclops.”

My feet stroll against the sidewalk. I expect Erwin to start the car and follow me to Mom’s house, just to show me he cares. But he doesn’t. He drives right past me, uncaring of the cold weather I’m walking in and probably seething with anger because he has to change his clothes. I want to laugh, but I know it will only sound dry in my throat. The plastic bag in my hand feels heavier the more I walk. I end up throwing it in somebodies’ backyard, uncaring of the consequences.

 

 

I don’t know why I suddenly dream of that day at a time like this. Maybe because that was the first fight between Erwin and me where I had gotten so _angry._ Our confrontations usually consist of him yelling at me and me ignoring him. It was a cycle, which is probably one of the reasons why we are on such bad terms now. Nonetheless, I usually listened to his complaints and handed my forgiveness in the shape of sexual endeavors– as raunchy as that sounds. That was just how we worked.

We wake up to the sound of housekeeping knocking on the suite door. I’m perfectly comfortable on the bed, but when I lift my head, I see Eren hanging barely on the edge. My eyes slit and evil energy flows through me. The housekeeper keeps knocking. I’m not getting up, I know that for damn sure. So, I lift my left leg, scrunch it, and slam my foot into Eren’s back.

“ _AGH_ -“ He falls to the floor is the goofiest way. I can’t contain my laughter. It bubbles out my throat and exits in intervals. Eren tries to get up quickly but ends up tripping on the covers that fell with him. Chuckles after chuckles emit from my throat. Eventually, Eren makes it off the floor and slams a pillow onto my face. “What the _fuck_ is _wrong_ with you! I almost had a panic attack, you stupid idi –“ The knocking interrupts his rant. I point innocently to the door and turn away from Eren’s exasperated face. “What, you couldn’t get your lazy ass up to get it?” His hair looks like a birds nest, so it’s hard for me to take him seriously this way. My shoulders shrug themselves and I end up turning to look away from him. Thankfully, Eren gives up and heads to the door.

The sound of his feet pattering against the floor relax me. They give me a slight sense of home. It’s like the comfort of a busy house – the comfort in knowing you aren’t alone. It is a feeling of great contrast compared to my isolation at my apartment.

“I don’t understand why they give us these small ass shampoos. I have relatively thick hair, so this shit hardly lasts…” Eren mutters to himself as he enters the bedroom once again. He throws bathroom supplies onto the bed and points to it. “She gave us some extra soap, conditioners, shampoos, and other shit in this bag.” Eren sits onto the comfy mattress and starts ruffling through the plastic bag. “What the fuck…”

“What is it –“ I blurt out. “- cheap lotions? The scariest things of them all...”

“No, shut up. It’s nothing.” He crumbles up the bag and throws it onto the floor. “Just dumb shit. Where is the menu for this shithole?” Eren begins rumbling through the nightstand, complaining about how the hotel wasn’t even that good and smelled like an old lady. I roll my eyes and lift myself off the pillow. “Found it.” He murmurs after pulling out a plastic menu. His finger slides over the food choices and eventually, he chuckles. “Complimentary orange juice? What a joke.”

“Excuse me?” I lift myself off the bed to glare at Eren from across the bed. He shakes his head at me and reiterates his point. Rolling my eyes, I scoff and snatch the menu out of his hands. “Of course, you hate orange juice. I can’t imagine anything less.”

“It tastes like ass in a cup. Not only that, acid ass. It always gives me gas n’ shit.”

“Apple juice is just as worse, you dick-rider. I swear I can’t drink a sip without thinking I have diabetes and high blood pressure.” My fingers push against the plastic menu to turn the page. I give a sly smirk when I remark on Eren’s choice of words. He glares at my countenance. “And look at you, learning _my_ lingual. I’d say I’m a great influence on you.”

“Are you gonna order something or what? I’m starving –“ He places his hand on his jaw concerningly. “ – and overly thirsty. Like my mouth ran out of saliva or some shit.” He reaches down into the nightstand and grabs another menu. Tossing and turning the page, he halts on one and hums to himself. “I’m getting the strawberry pancakes. Bacon and egg sandwich. Probably some French toast too…” He hums to himself. “They got chicken and waffles? Hmm…”

“I want juice.” I shuffle through the menu as well, ignoring Eren’s evident binging on food. It’ll be more for later anyway. “Orange juice and grape juice. I like them both.” Eren tsks at my decision and throws the menu back into the nightstand. He grabs the hotel phone next to him and starts dialing a number.

“Good morning, this is the penthouse suite calling for a breakfast deliverance…yes…” Eren gets up from the bed holding the phone to his ear by the edge of his shoulders. He starts to rummage through the open drawers, which surprisingly have clothes that he probably has to pay for. I ignore him for half a second and grab my phone off the charger. I have no messages, of course, but I’m relatively shocked at the time. 1 in the fucking afternoon? How long did we stay up last night?

“We are going to order the complimentary orange juice, as well as grape juice and apple juice. For foods, I would like the chicken and waffles, strawberry pancakes, bacon and egg sandwich, French toast, and that should be…” He stalls for a few seconds before turning toward me. I ignore his evident glances. “…hash browns as well. Salt and pepper packets on the side too. That will be it.” Eren grabs a shirt from a particular drawer and throws it onto the bed. I think for half a second that he is probably just getting his clothes ready to take a shower, but when he crosses his arms over his chest and begins the pull the outer edges of his shirt, my eyes widen a tiny bit. “Twenty-minute wait is fine. Thank you, ma’am.” The shirt slides off his body like cascading cyan water. He throws the shirt onto the bed as well as the phone before grabbing the clean shirt.

I'm used to stuff like this. I mean, guys at the bar take their shirts off all the time. Yeah, their bodies are usually grossly sweaty and unnaturally hairy and really unattractive in the bar environment, but regardless this isn’t my first rodeo. Hell, when I lived with Erwin, he would _never_ wear a shirt at home. It would be beige cargo shorts and bubble-gum nipples until morning hit. I kind of got used to it after a while and eventually urged him to wear a shirt. Besides, he _cooked_ shirtless too, and the last thing I wanted in my food was the remnants of his sweat residue.

So yeah, seeing Eren shirtless for the first time should be nothing to complain about. I expected myself to chuckle, because I noticed he has a mole on his nipple, and call him _‘nipple-boy’_ out of poor humor, but I didn’t. At the very least, I wanted it to be just a glance and look away. He was nothing to look at anyway. For sure, the Adonis caricature in this very room should have no effect on me. I’ve met a few Adonis’s before. Eren is nothing special.

In gazing upon Eren’s form, I’m suddenly mindful of my mother washing laundry in our front yard. The washing machines would usually be broken, mostly by the neighborhood kids who thought it was funny to run it dry. And it wasn't like we could afford a brand new washer, so it was back to the basics. She would soak her and I clothes in the soapy bucket, pulling one out every so often to grind it against the metal washboard. Her hands would end up a fiery red at the end of laundry day. I would usually offer to cut up the meat for dinner because her hands would be so sore.

One day, when she was at work, I did the laundry for her. I filled the bucket up with flaming hot water and dish soap. The clothes would soak for minutes before my hands would grab them, gliding the fabric down the rusty washboard. I remember how satisfying it was – being able to help my mother and properly clean the clothes on such an archaic device. It was so satisfying that now that I think about it, I recall it in unnatural _erotic_ ways. _Erotic_ , as in, imagining the clothes that thrust against the device as my nimble hands, and the washboard becoming Eren’s rigid chest.

Such a simple, working task make my thighs shudder on the bed. Immediately, I turn my head away from Eren’s form, as he caused me to turn joyful memories into the disturbing erotic. I cough slightly and avert my attention to the phone. Eren finally places the shirt onto his body. Faintly, he mutters. “This is small as hell.” I look up because I assume he wants me to respond, and I should have.

What the fuck? What the _fuck_? Get the fuck – _out_. This is not happening. Those suits are the fucking devil! Or perhaps – the angel? No, no, the angel. No, no…the _devil_.

“You owe me, by the way. This breakfast is costing me up the ass. You hear me?... Hey? Stop biting your nails, you psychopath.” I feel Eren slap my fingernails out my mouth. My forehead scrunches up and I look back up at Eren. The sharp onyx shirt embraces his godly form as if destined for each other. He shuffles in his slacks and gazes down at his waist. “Look, I know I look weird with these fucking slacks on, don’t start with me. I’m gonna ask the maid for some sweatpants. You need clothes too?”

“…No, I’m fine.”

“Like hell, you probably smell like ass under those sweatpants. That’s all you wear.” Eren rolls his eyes at me. “Sweatpants and long t-shirts. You self-conscious or something?” Finally, I snap out of my longing stares and glare at him instead. Crossing my arms, I swing my legs off the bed and stand up.

“Yep. I have so much ass under these pants I gotta keep it hidden.” I shake my head at him and start to make my way out of the bedroom. “I’m going to the living room. Tell me when the food is here, dipshit.”

And with that, I make my way to the mini-living room that holds a couch, two love seats, and a matte gray table. The television is implanted in the wall above a dull fireplace. When I walk over to it, I notice a large Butane lighter laying on the corner of the brick. I flick it on and hover it over the wood, waiting for it to erupt in crimson flames. A subtle flick initiates and combusts largely into a substantial, fiery inferno.

 

These guys love starting fires around my mom’s old apartment. They munch on meat from the dumpster and heat their cold fingers with the emissions. They raise their hands up when they see me, grunting greetings and asking how I am. I dig my hands into my coat pocket and breathe out the cold winter air as I stroll by them. “I see you lookin’ healthy, boy. That girlie must be treatin’ you right, huh?” My feet halt in walking to look over at the main motormouth. He grins, teeth a bitter yellow with coal spotting, and pulls the teal winter hat over his ears. “You got a girlie, right? I hear from ya momma you stayin’ with her.”

“I’d appreciate if you fuckers would stop camping here.” I walk over to them and administer a glare. The other two guys avert their eyes, worrying about keeping their hands warm and preserving their food in the cold winter. “And what my momma gotta say to you anyway?”

“Nothin’, kid. I just overheard.” The old man chuckles again and gives a grim smile. “You got change? I ripped a hole in my glove. Help the poor old man, would ya?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. Just like him to try and get some money out of me. My fingers grip the change in my back pocket. All I have are pennies. Suddenly, I remember Erwin handing me extra cash as a so-called gift. I wonder if I should, but eventually, I end up taking a fifty-dollar bill and giving it to the older man.

His eyes widen so quickly and largely that my heart fills with a certain warmth. His friends look at him in jealousy. Soon enough, I succumb to their looks and pull out the last ends of money Erwin gave me. Two twenty-dollar bills. I hand it to them with a distant countenance. “That’s all I got, okay? Go get some new gloves or…” I avert my eyes from the tattered meat on one male’s lap. “…some _real_ food. I’m heading in.”

“Thank you… _thank you_!” The elder male exclaims. He gazes at the money as if it is some god. An entity that will save his entire life, just because of its simplistic value. It is just a crumbled fifty-dollar bill, but to him, it looks like his place of worship. I lick my chapped lips and nod my head. Before I can leave, the elder man gets up from the ground and shouts noticeably. “Wait!...um, your mom… she is married right?” My eyebrows scrunch up at his accusations, though he is correct.

“What are you so worried about my mom for? Look, I gave you some money, so stop mentioning her. If I find out you touch a hair on her body, I will kill you. You got it?” The elder man halts in saying the rest of his words. Eventually, he slumps down on the ground and shakes his head in distress. What for? I just gave him money, what is he so stressed by? I let out a brief sigh and decide that money isn’t always the source of happiness for some people.

I walk twenty feet to my mother’s front door. Ringing the doorbell, I wonder about what I’m going to say to convince her to let me stay at home for the thousandth time. Though, I don’t even want to go home. I’m fine where I am, with Erwin. He gives me what I need. Even though I always find a way to complain about it.

The doorbell shudders at the pressure of my index on the metal. I ring it again, possibly considering she might not be home. I grab the door handle and twist it, not really expecting it to be unlocked. It surprisingly is. I scrunch up my eyebrows and slowly open the door to the house I grew up in. The house I grew up in, but the house I'm not allowed in anymore. But here I am, defying all rules and stepping my cursed foot inside.

The tiny living room is quiet besides the small static of the television. “Momma?” I call out rather softly. Looking around the apartment, I notice clothes scattered along the carpet. Two empty red cups sit on the living room table, potent with the smell of alcohol. I can also smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Scowling, I recall my mom does not smoke, nor does my step-father.

My mom’s room is right across from mine. I ignore my old room for the sake of memories. Knocking on my mom’s door, I expect at least an acknowledging sound. But I don’t. Instead, I hear the squeakiness of her mattress and the faint sound of groans. My hand shakes to open the door. It hovers over the knob. My gut tells me, _don’t open this door. You don’t want to know_.

But I open it, because I don’t want it to be true. My mom ends up turning her head to the door, face beat red and drool licking down her mouth. When she sees me, her eyes widen, and she jerks off the male’s lap in front of her. He is no one I’ve seen before. He looks at me with complete nonchalance. As if he doesn’t care who I am, he just wants to get off and get the work done. I stand in front of my mother’s bedroom staring at the whole scene unfold.

 But nothing much happens. My mom tells me to leave, and that _‘we will talk about it later.’_ So I leave, but we end up never talking about it at all.

 

“That’s not mine,” I mutter to Eren annoyingly. He places a plate of hash browns in front of me. We both sit at the living room table on the floor, ready to have breakfast though it is nearly dinner time. “I just want juice. Are you deaf?”

“I heard you. Just eat. You need some meat on your bones. Besides, I thought you liked hash browns?” Eren ignores my complaints and begins munching on his chicken fingers. He grabs some napkins near him and wipes his fingers. “Come on, eat. Are _you_ deaf?”

“I’m not hungry.” I grab the glass of orange juice off the table and begin sipping. Eren’s figure blocks the fire but illuminates his whole figure. I thank him silently for doing so. I didn’t want to think too much any longer. “Why do you have so much food anyway? Aren’t you on a diet?” The orange juice soothes my dry mouth. Eren refrains from answering me for a few minutes, deciding to indulge in his meal a few moments longer. He responds after finishing up his first meal.

“I overeat when I’m depressed. It’s a coping mechanism.” He finally mentions. He says it so calmly that I don’t know if I should laugh or feel bad for him. “College days it was worse. I’d eat, like, four burgers and a whole box of pizza in one set. And even afterward, I’d kept eating. Just wouldn’t stop.” He grabs the pancakes near him and starts to cut them. “Not as worse as alcoholism, but it can get crazy sometimes.”

“Shut up, asshole.” I take another sip of my juice slowly. “And I find it problematic that you compare disorders. You’d think as a lawyer, you’d realize a tragedy is still a tragedy, no matter the intensity – dickwad.” I add the insult for comic relief, I presume.

“I don’t have a disorder.”

“That’s _literally_ a sign of a fucking eating disorder. “ My eyes roll themselves. I place the glass onto the table and reference the food that surrounds us. “Or depression. I don’t know. I didn’t go to college.”

“Obviously.” Eren whisper to himself. He starts to take big bites of his meal, gulping it down and not even chewing. I can see his eyes gloss over in thought as he eats. I wonder if he even knows what he is doing. I eventually get so disgusted, and perhaps slightly _concerned_ , and take the plate of pancakes away from him. Eren’s face scrunches up at me and forms into a frown. “Hey –“

“I’m hungry. Drink juice and shut up.” I grab his utensils and begin to munch on the sweet dessert. Eren glares at me for a while before opening his annoying mouth.

“Listen, I don’t have a fucking eating disorder! I just eat when I’m upset, like 90% of Americans.” He snatches the pancakes away from me. “Now fuck off and drink your juice.”

“ _Bitch_ , give me the pancakes. Right now.” I slam my fist onto the table and grab the plate from Eren. “And I’m not saying you do! But eating pounds of food is not a good way to feel better, you idiot!” He ignores my words and grabs the plate again. We end up tugging the porcelain back and forth, our faces glaring at each other angrily. “Find something else to make you feel better…!”

“Like what? What exactly is gonna make me feel better, Levi?” Eren finally let’s go of the plate. It jerks back my way and almost spills over me. Eren scrunches up his reddening face at me. “Go to work? Go exercise? Go _home_? What the fuck am I gonna do? I don’t have _anything_ that is going to make me feel better besides this –“ He points to the food below him. “ – and drugs, and I’d much rather eat chicken fingers than get addicted to weed!”

“…You can’t get addicted to weed.”

“It’s a fucking _drug_. Are you dumb?”

“Whatever.” I throw the food onto the living room table and start to stand up from the floor. “Therapy, painting, drawing, watching a _movie_. These are all alternatives your ass could do, you know?” Shaking my head, I begin walking to the bedroom out of anger. Eren’s voice stops me.

“You know, I find it hilarious how an alcoholic is giving me healthy ways to feel better. Isn’t that the biggest joke of the fucking year?” Eren stands up from the floor as well. He crosses his arms and scowls at me from across the room. I turn back around and mimic his action.

“Yeah, well, _you_ can afford that shit, Eren. What do I look like, paying thousands of dollars to go fix something I know will never be fixed? I’m not stupid.” My feet carry me toward him. “ _You_ can afford therapy. _You_ can afford rehab. _You_ can afford to sit on your ass, watching a movie on your big ass television to make your day. I can’t. What do you not understand!?” My ears start to heat up, along with my cheeks and neck. “We are _not_ the same. We will _never_ be the same. Can you get that through your big ass head?”

Eren’s eyes look down at me, and as I look up at him, I imagine a dark viridian tropical forest in his eyes. The oscillations of onyx represent thick trees and his deep iris are the abyss. He ceases mentioning anything else and only shakes his shaggy locks. He raises his hands upward, indicating a signal of defeat. “I’m done.” – is all he says. He bypasses me and sits on the couch, ignoring my presence. “I’m done arguing with you, Levi. It’s tiring. I’ve had enough of it.” He leans on his knees. “ _Leave_.” His words ring with hidden needles pricking my skin.

 

I walk to Erwin’s house from my mother’s house in the snow. It falls on my nose every few seconds, eventually driving me so crazy that I end up grabbing a newspaper from a nearby shop to hover over my head. As I stroll home, I wonder about what I’m going to say to Isabel. She isn’t going to happy when she finds out I can’t stay. Or more so, I _refuse_ to stay.

When I finally make it to the block where Erwin’s house resides, I end up walking a bit quicker. The cold bites my skin like mosquitos. Erwin’s house is covered in a layer of snow. I stroll up to the front gate and open it, but not before being shocked at the extra car in the driveway. My eyes scrunch up as I walk up to it. Snow covers the car heavily, blocking the vibrant color that would indicate its familiarity. My palm wipes the snow off.

The color is a sheer viridian. A forest green car. My feet carry my entire body to the front door. I stand there, hoping and praying that this wouldn’t be a day of threes. The lump in my throat won’t swallow until I open this door. Raising my hand, I turn the knob and open the door to Erwin’s house.

The most anxiety-striking component of Erwin’s house is that he has corridors. So, when I open the door, I am met with nothing but walls. My hands slowly grip the door closed and my feet pattered down the hallway. The slow walk bubbles nervousness in my stomach. Then, I suddenly get a little confident as I walk. There are no moans, no grunts, _nothing_. He probably has a friend over. Nothing serious. The house is calm, serene, _family-like_.

I reach the end of the corridor with optimism emitting from my body, and it is suddenly cut with a thick knife.

There has to be something worse than catching your partner sleeping with someone else. There has to be something more gut-wrenching, more heartbreaking, than seeing your lover call out another one’s name. I think I’ve found something worth counting for.

There is something undeniably desolate in catching your lover kissing another man on the sofa. Not having sex. Not doing anything kinky. Just simply kissing, as if they are in desperate love. Their hands on each other’s cheeks, embracing each other with their pillow-like lips. Them just falling into the puddle of the erotic: the intimate exchange of inner-self. Them not even noticing your presence until you walk toward the bedroom you use to share, grab your phone charger, and leave. 

And him not even caring that you did. Him just sitting there, watching you with those eyes, those eyes telling you – “ _Leave_.” You leave without uttering a word, because he doesn’t even deserve your voice. Or maybe, you just can’t find it anymore, because that had been the last thing you could take today.

 

I don’t leave this time. My feet stick on the floor, telling me that this time we won’t leave until we say something. Do something _._ I fiddle with my fingers and look over at the flaring fire. Eren’s form doesn’t block it anymore. Sighing, I glance over at Eren who stares at the fire as well, eyes lit up to unimaginable hues. I walk over to him and sit down. The couch dips. The food sits cold on the table.

The remotes are ironically next to me. I grab them, feeling the coldness of the plastic, and start fiddling with the buttons. My body leans back on the sofa. Eren still doesn’t let up from looking at the fire. Scowling, I grab his shoulder and pull him back with me. He shouts and turns his head to glare at me. “What is your problem?”

“I damn sure can’t afford therapy, but I can at least watch a movie.” I lift my wobbling arms and start rummaging through television shows and movies. “Want to watch something funny? A horror movie? Romance?” I pause in speaking to give a comical smile toward Eren. “Or are you some pervert who watches those erotic movies? Like Sex in the City.” Tilting my head innocently, I look at Eren for an answer.

Finally, _finally_ , Eren releases the chains from his mouth and gives a sly smirk. He snatches the remote from my hands and turns toward the television. “Only _you_ would think Sex in the City is erotic.” He starts suggesting shows to watch, ranging from sci-fi to odd romances. I only nod my head, administering a sassy comment when needed, and basking in my self-glory.

I’m glad I didn’t leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter snippet: let's watch a movie together and be awkward with our arising gay feelings. iconic. 
> 
> also, I have a question for all the readers! How do you guys feel about smut? I know I had one review mentioning it (and I quote, "Those Smut and Anal Sex tags have me dying of anticipation. Fuck" lmaooo shout out to mydarkeyes55). But I'm mostly wondering what role would you like it to play in the story. I know I plan most of the smut to be very poetic (of course) just to be a lil classy, but in having Levi as such a vulgar character, I'm unsure if that will always accurately depict how he is feeling physically and mentally. Plus, these characters are not exactly in love yet, and that "friends with benefits" tag is there for a reason.... :X.
> 
> Either way, let me know. I'd love to hear what you guys are expecting with this story (though sometimes I may use it against you haha)


	18. Bildungsroman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> * if you guys didn't know, these little vignettes are excerpts from Eren's novel. the two characters are sort of equivocal, but nonetheless, both represent different aspects of Eren and Levi's identity. most of them foreshadow future concerns, worries, excitement, etc from Eren's standpoint (since it is his novel). so, if a vignette has a certain vibe to it, it is kind of synonymous with how Eren is feeling emotionally whether before or after the main event occurring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mannnn I am sorry I haven't updated in two weeks. First, it was Thanksgiving. Second, I recently cut off one of my close friends and I'm feeling really shitty lmao. So, I needed some time to myself to listen to Lofi hip-hop, smoke, re-watch AOT, and get back into this mf gig. 
> 
> Good news is I'm finally done with this semester of college and I'll be on break until January 14, so that shit is golden. Bad news is... ain't none mf lets do this shit!

Mom catches me. I was sitting at the school playground at recess. Kids were running around, shouting and screeching as a way of catharsis from the hard-working day. I sat under the slide, feeling keenly the bumps and excessive vibrations from the kids climbing up and sliding down. My nimble fingers fiddled with my shoelaces. They all passed by me as if I wasn’t there. Sighing, I remain my head on my knee and start picking at the rubber ground.  
  
“Eren?” She shuffles on her noiseless feet. Her head tilts cutely. I elevate my eyebrows. “Can I sit next to you, Eren?” My jaw drops slightly. I nod awkwardly and scoot over, making room for the girl I had never met. She smiles long lastingly and positions herself next to me. She subsequently pulls out a juice box and starts drinking. “I like to sit, too.”  
  
I don’t respond. She doesn’t question my eternal silence. Five minutes later, she tilts her noble head to look at me and ultimately gives a devilish smile. I feel vaguely uncomfortable. “I like you.” I don’t know her. My fingers continue to fiddle with my shoelaces. “You’re nice.” We sit in silence.  
  
My mom catches me. She had come to pick me up early from school. I remember her colossal form bending to look under the slide and identifying me. When she sees the girl next to me, her smile grows large. “Oh, ho – and what are you doing with this girl, Eren?” My head instantly jerked at the sound of her voice. When I note her, a smile glides on my face and I immediately get up.  
  
“Momma – you are here –“  
  
“I guess you are at that age, huh?” She bends down and gazes at the girl next to me longingly. “What is your name?” She tells her. Mom laughs and tells her it is pleasant to meet her. She then looks over at me and wiggles her finger toward the outside. We both get out from under the slide, abandoning the little girl to her own solitude. She doesn’t mind much. She moves over to the middle and basks in the external space.  
  
Mom seizes my hand and ushers me out the school facility. As she does, I can hear her talking to me. “You weren’t doing nothin’ dirty under them slides, were you? You want a _whoopin_ ’? I know how you kids get when you comin’ of age.” When I don’t answer, she wrenches my arm and glares down at me. “ _Huh_?”  
  
“I don’t know what you are talking about. We just sitting, Momma.”  
.  
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ll be sure to tell your father to have the talk with you.”  
  
The talk. A universal conversation among teens that consist of parents stuttering over the structures of sex. Well, for me, my father dominated the conversation. I recall him being covered in grease stains from repairing the car and smelling of potent coffee. He had sat on the couch, sandwich in hand, and looked over at me when Mom told him it was time to deliver the talk. Mom left, of course, to go pick up Mikasa because we went to different schools at that time.  
  
“Well…I hear you were looking close to a girl at school. Is that true?”  
  
“…I guess.” I mean, we were sitting next together. He bobs his head and munches on his sandwich again before continuing.  
  
“Do you know what sex is?” I sway my head no. He starts describing these complex mechanics that make me shuffle on my feet. My face heats up and I begin swallowing the lump in my throat. But he continues, oblivious to how uncomfortable I was and even starts to demonstrate with his hands. Eventually, once he finishes, I discover the voice to talk.  
  
“But we were just sitting, Dad.”  
  
“Yeah, okay Eren. Listen, I use to be a boy too. It’s all about coming-of-age. Okay?” He pats me on my back. I can smell the gasoline and grease on his skin more distinctly. “Boys will be boys.”  
  
Boys will be boys. Even when I’m merely sitting under a slide, enjoying my solitude with a girl who happens to desire company. Why did my situation lead to such frequent complication? I was merely sitting, relaxing, and keenly enjoying my own essentialism. How had that led to the birds and the bees?  
  
Recess the following day is the same, except the girl is replaced by a boy eager to have me join in his kickball game. He yearns to haul me out of the cave and aid me to indulge in elementary fun. I eventually agreed, but mostly because he promised it would result in the prime gift.  
  
“So, I’m gonna roll the ball, and you have to kick it, Eren?” The little boy in front of me says at recess. I bob my head confidently. “You got this! If you kick it far enough, we get ice cream today!” He giggles in excitement. I give a little smile because seeing him so joyous secures my happiness too. Teachers on the sideline observe me in concern. They were not used to seeing me at the center of attention. It made them uncomfortable. I was supposed to remain the boy under the slide, but after being invited to join this sporty activity by such a fortunate individual, I couldn’t deny.  
  
And I fiercely strike the ball. It soars effortlessly through the balmy air and eventually passes a massive, viridian tree. The kids watch in awe. I smile wondrously. Soon enough, I identify a body envelop mine. The innocent boy is hugging me in excitement. His joy transfers into me, warming up my body and urging me to return the affection. I embrace him back. I’m delighted to receive such a friendly interaction. His hair smells of papaya shampoo, and his skin feels like lava against mine. I cuddle into the relaxing scent and clutch his form.  
  
Yet, he breaks up from me quickly. The kids are running to receive the ball. Eventually, he thrusts me forward. “Run through the bases!” I nod rapidly and begin to run joyfully. As I do, I get a glimpse of the teachers’ faces. Many are just as content as me, probably happy I was capable to kick the ball far enough. I giggle and hit first base. But not before noting two figures waiting near the recess door, mighty arms crossed and prominent figures rigged.  
  
It strikes me that they are my parents, here to pick me up early once more. I smile at them and wave in the middle of the game. They don’t wave back. In fact, they studiously avoid looking at me. They instead gaze away with a countenance similar to grave embarrassment and overwhelming irritation. My whole body pauses. It startles me. Then the kids strike me with the crimson ball, and I’m out the game. It all went by just as swift.  
  
The car ride home was a dull one. There was no talk of the birds and the bees, but only how I shouldn’t hug boys like that anymore.  
  
  
  
We end up watching a television show. Levi orders popcorn, evidently taking advantage of the hotel’s decision to make our meals free (probably courtesy of Dr. Smith, which is too bad, because now he has to pay double with me around). He also orders hot chocolate. I roll my eyes at his childish needs, but he only comments on the fact hot chocolate is perfect for a drizzly night.  
  
Speaking of rain, outside is hailing. Thunderstorms crackle through the dull sky like electric shocks and the ominous clouds look like baby blue cotton balls. It gets pretty undesirable, so I end up just obstructing the view with the curtains. That doesn’t release us from the deafening sounds, though. It nudges me that when it rains, it pours.  
  
When it rains, it pours.  
  
I can’t stop thinking bitterly about it.  
  
What am I going to do when I get home? How am I going to confront them? I can’t stop thinking about it simply because it alters everything. Everything ever created, ever manifested, ever destroyed –is gone. It is marginalized because this…this changes everything for me.  
  
My mother and father are enjoying an affair. Kuchel likely doesn’t know. I don’t even know how long it has been happening. I have no idea how Mikasa will react. And Levi…here he sits at ease, sipping on hot chocolate like it was common to witness such a thing. As if it didn’t affect him.  
  
Maybe I should act like it never happened, just like him. Then I could order hot chocolate, munch on popcorn, and watch this horrible television show. Just like him. I should be just like him.  
  
Not a care in the world.  
  
“This tastes like piss and dark chocolate. And it burned my tongue, so now I’m pissed off.” Levi murmurs bitterly as he cuddles against the covers under his torso. He hands it over to me dramatically. “Try it. I’m not lying.”  
  
“I didn’t say you were. Shut up and watch the show.”  
  
“I am.” He groans out. “You aren’t. Is there anything that is going to get you out your thoughts…” I raise my fierce eyebrows and glance aloft at Levi’s juvenile form. He is still sipping on the drink, even though he keeps complaining about the taste every five minutes, and fiddling with the television remote. I sway my head at him and release a finely tuned chuckle.  
  
“Why do you even care?…” The words flow out like a river current. “We only hung out because of the marriage, Levi. To please our parents. So why are you still here? If I were you, I would have just –“  
  
“First of all,” Levi cuts me off instantly. “You can’t place a singular reason for our relationship. For you, it’s because of the marriage, which is completely fucking wrong because frankly – I don’t give a fuck about the men my mother marries. They are all the same to me.” He glances over at me discretely. “For me, it’s because my house burned down due to a heater and your dad was kind enough to force you to let me stay at your house. Then the reason switched, because you let me stay longer. Then it switched again, because you got Eddy for me. I mean, there are continuous reasons why we formed…whatever this is.”  
  
My head leans over to gaze at Levi’s form illuminated by the fire and the television. He undoubtedly continues, oblivious to my shrewd glance. “If you think we are only close because we are supposed to be ‘step-brothers’, then I’d have to say you have a very fixed mindset.” He turns his head and administers a cocky look. “Besides, you make me laugh sometimes, so I keep you around for that.”  
  
“I make you laugh?” I blurt out unconsciously. “Do you know the shit that comes out your mouth? If there is anyone that is as blunt as you, I’d love to know.”  
  
“Whatever. My only concern after seeing your parents fuck –“ I flinch slightly. “ – is that you would kick me out. Ya know, blame it on me or something.” Levi averts his eyes and looks up at the ceiling in thought. “Then I’d have to think about where to live. I’d probably go back to Texas and live with my uncle. Then I’d have to worry how to get the fuck out of there, because he would drive me up the fucking wall.”  
  
“Why would I blame it on you?” My tone of voice softens. The subtle pitch of the television murmurs in the humble background of our conversation. I find it slightly soothing. “That doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
“I don’t know. I mean technically, you’d be a family again. You, your dad, your mom, and your sister. Wouldn’t need me around anymore. I would just get in the way…” I shake my head discretely as he talks. “On the other hand, I thought you would blame it on me. I don’t know why…. I just thought it would be easier to do that than face what actually happened.” He sighs. “I would have understood though. I wouldn’t have blamed you for doing it.”  
  
“I would never do that.” It comes out my mouth fixed. “I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s fucked up.” I run my hand through my glossy hair as I speak. “She used to blame me for many things growing up. I know how it feels.” Levi’s head tilts over at me flawlessly. His deep azure eyes diligently study me. He blinks with his lengthy eyelashes and opens his mouth slightly. His irises look like an open book, ready to absorb scriptures and other novelties. I want to grab him by his cheeks, gaze into his eyes, and write sonnets and ballades about the way I feel. Though I’m sure I could never find the accurate words to describe the thumping of my heart, I’m sure that as long as I can stay fixed on his eyes, somehow the right words will come, whether they exist or not.  
  
His eyebrows raise slightly and I reflect on what he is about to say. And then, for a second in our split silence, I appreciate his motive. He switches between looking at both of my eyes, and I hope to God he is thinking about me the way I think about him. “Tell me more,” he says. The lump in my throat intentionally blocks the key to opening up a vast entity wishing to explain himself. Wishing to describe the one before me how I feel, whether that be about my family or just about him.  
  
But I can’t, because I know if I open up about one, the sacred secrets will fall out like a flooding lake. “Tell me more,” he repeats, creating a noble arch in his brow. I jerk my head slightly. He can’t know more. “Why not?” He keeps speaking about it. Isn’t he supposed to be the one who doesn’t care? I lick my lips and lay my head on the couch cushion, looking up at the ceiling as well. “Why can’t you tell me more?”  
  
“I don’t know anything about you, Levi. You aren’t my therapist. I don’t feel comfortable telling you anything like this.” Everything I say is true, even though I wish it didn’t come out as harsh as it did. But Levi doesn’t give up. He rolls his eyes and opens his mouth.  
  
“Eren, I can tell you my whole life story. I have no problem doing that. I’m not like you.” He begins. “My only problem was that no one gave a fuck. You, you have people who give a fuck. You just don’t want to say it. The reason why is beyond me, unless it has to do with the fragile masculinity you have.”  
  
“Don’t make this about gender right now.”  
  
“Ask me a question and I’ll answer it.” He flutters out. “I’ll show you it’s not that bad. Come on.”  
  
“Can you please just leave it –“  
  
“Eren, if you don’t ask me a fucking question, I will shave your head in your fucking sleep. Get off your high horse and try and stop being such a pussy, you dick-wad. Now.”  
  
“Why didn’t you react? Why do you just not give a fuck?” I ask instantly. “Why are you an alcoholic? Why does your mom ignore you? What is your relationship with my boss? Why do you like animals? Why did you drop out of high school? Who is your dad? How –“ I hesitate. “ – how did you know you liked guys?” I pause. Levi stays still for a few seconds, trying to process the number of questions I asked him. Suddenly, he chuckles and massages his hand on his forehead.  
  
“Okay, I get it. Those are kinda hard to answer…”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“Doesn’t mean I can’t answer them.” He sits up on the plush couch and places the hot chocolate on the polished table. “You just have to answer one at a time. I’m not asking you to spew your entire life to me right now. I just want you to stop looking like you have to take a shit all the time. It’s unattractive.” I roll my eyes at his choice of words. “Anyways, I like animals because they are cute. That’s literally it.”  
  
“You would answer the easier question.” I murmur to him softly. “But I’m the pussy.”  
  
“I have an easy question: is your sister adopted? You guys look nothing alike.”  
  
“Wow, thanks.” He gives a sly grin at my response. “We are fraternal twins. She dyed her hair black and got a nose job. My father’s features are apparently unattractive on females.”  
  
“I mean, you are ugly.”  
  
“Shut _up_.”  
  
“Tell me – why do you care so much?” Levi scoffs and shrugs. “Saying I’m weird. What about you? You are twenty-eight years old, riding the coast of life with a high-paying job with good looks. Tell me, why the fuck do you care so much about those two? It’s not like you are kid anymore.” Levi fiddles with the television remote before continuing. “And before you say I’m insinuating for you to get over it, I’m not. I’m just asking why the fuck is it such a big dea –“  
  
“I write - ” It flows out of my mouth before I can stop it. For some reason, this seems like different territory. An area of my expertise is explaining things in ambiguous words.” - used to write short stories. Wrote a novel once. Won some contests in undergrad.” I lean against the couch. “It was like my own coming-of-age story. A kid figures himself out as he grows, realizing what he wants and doesn’t want. Exploring the inner depths of his mind and personality. Finding himself, loving himself.” I pause, swallow, and continue.  
  
“I feel like I never finished. I feel like I’m still stuck at the time he left. And it pisses me off.” My fists curl. “Because he didn’t have to leave. If he felt like this the whole fucking time – he didn’t have to leave.” Rubbing my eyebrows, I glance over at Levi who avoids gazing over at me. I thank him for that. “So many things change when people leave. She couldn’t find a job. We had no food. We had no dad. We had no mom. And you’d think me and Mikasa would get closer because of that –“ My breath hitches. “ – but we didn’t. It was worse. We hated each other. I mean, we weren’t getting any attention from anyone else, so we might as well just place anger on each other.” I shake my head. “We still have that silent anger against each other. There is no reason for it. Not at all. Just a result of forged alienation and solitude. And no one told us to stop. Hell, Mom thought our feud was entertaining.”  
  
“Then she moved out, and it was Mom and I head to head every day. Arguing, fighting, cursing each other out, crying. Then I got into Harvard and it got worse. Then I became a lawyer and it got even worse. The reality is we never got over it.” I feel Levi shuffle next to me. “We never forgave him.”  
  
”Then he comes back, and though I don’t want to admit it, I have been so content –” I exhale on the last word, emotions overcoming me for a few seconds. “I hate him so much, but that’s my Dad. I could never hate him. And it upsets me - it doesn’t make me angry - it makes me sad.” The ceiling looks like a puddle of quicksand. “Because this…this all could have been avoided. We could have been happy. We could have gotten a dog. Me and Mikasa could have been closer. Mom would have been happy. Dad too.” My voice lowers in a whisper. “I could have been happy. I could have been a writer.”  
  
“I could have been happy.” I repeat again out loud, but it my head it resounds like a mantra. “A _writer_.”  
  
The thunder outside rumbles slower than the thumping of my heart. Levi’s fragrant breath is at the same level. It hadn’t increased or decreased. It was virtually as if he was comatose the whole time. In some ways, I wish he was. Maybe I could forget about the nonsense I just spewed. He has no business knowing my thoughts.  
  
“When you think about it that way,” Levi begins. “I think my story is pretty much finished. I just fucked up on the way.” He reaches down to seize the hot chocolate again. “…what kind of things do you write?” He diverges the whole situation. I want to thank him for it. I don’t think I could have handled talking much more about it. There is only so much I can say before it starts to get overwhelming.  
  
“…Sci-fi. Romance...”  
  
“Oooh, romance? As if you know what that is.”  
  
“Yeah, like you’re the one to talk.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over each other. “You dated a man several years older than you.”  
  
“Tomato, potato – whatever. I’ve had worse.” He takes a sip. “I imagine you dating a preppy little white girl with big blue eyes. You take her out to your heterosexual restaurants with your heterosexual wallet and gay clothing.”  
  
“Fuck you, I did date a blonde. But she was a boxer – so suck my dick.”  
  
“That sounds interesting. Tell me more.”  
  
“No.” A laugh exits my mouth accidentally. Levi gives a small grin as well. “You are insufferable. I just told you more than I would myself. Just take my word and indulge in your fantasies.”  
  
“Gladly, but speaking of –“ Levi finally turns his head to gaze at me. “ – you asked me how I knew I liked guys before…right?” They glimmer in the dark light, illuminated by the subtle thunder outside. He opens and closes his mouth. “ – you ever dated a guy?”  
  
I pause. The wry grin on my face falters slightly. Glancing over, I note Levi analyzing my countenance. I withdraw my hand and run my fingers through my hair once more. “You know I haven’t. That’s a stupid question – I’m straight.”  
  
“You claim you never really got to experience a real growing experience, so I don’t think it would be a surprise if you found out you were bisexual.” He sighs slightly and digs in his ear. “Your uptight ass probably never even thought of it as being an option.”  
  
“It has never been an option to me. Never will be, either.”  
  
Our eyes meet for several precious minutes. Levi stares at me with a unique look that can't be defined easily. I can feel my body sweating under the covers, crying with the urge to get some cool air. I swallow the lump in my brawny throat and blink, effectively breaking the intense staring we were having. “Stop looking at me like that.”  
  
“You’re looking at me.” Levi inclines his shapely head on his palm, still looking at me longingly. “Do you find me disgusting? For what I am?”  
  
“What are you talking about now? No, I don’t think you're disgusting. Stop saying shit like that.” I mean it, too. He is everything but disgusting in my eyes.  
  
“What if I told you –“ He pauses. He leans earnestly closer toward me, so close that I can smell the cocoa on his breath. “ – what if I told you I dreamed about us fucking last night? Then we kissed like we were in love. Do you think I’m gross now?”  
  
_WHAT_.  
  
“Uhhhhh….” It lingers longer than needed. I can feel my cheeks heating up. “I would say…” My tongue feels dry. “I would say you shouldn’t think like that anymore.”  
  
_**WHAT**_.  
  
“I didn’t ask what you would say, I said do you think I’m disgusting for that?”  
  
“Levi – you are putting me in a very uncomfortable situation right now.” I let out a cuddled sigh. “I would prefer if you don’t make up shit like that to prove a point. Seriously. I swear, I open up to you and you hit me with this shit.”  
  
“Just answer the question.”  
  
“…No.” I grit out. “No, Levi.” He stares thoughtfully at me with the fond hopes of detecting truth. When he is satisfied, he properly sets down the hot chocolate for the thousandth time this evening and grabs the television remote.  
  
“I thought being gay was normal until someone told me otherwise.” He boldly tells me. “But the real abnormal thing right now is that I think I like you.” He starts flipping through channels nonchalantly. “What do you wanna watch next? Horror or Romance?”  
  
My chiseled jaw is slightly dropped. My heart is beating so much that sometimes I obscure it with the thunder outside. I regard Levi ignore my reaction and tilt his head in question. I stutter slowly, trying to adjust to the information I just heard. “U-uh –“ I’m so glad the lights are out, because the red tinting my cheeks would have established me as a laughing stock.  
  
“Horror it is.”  
  
  
  
_“Are you awake?” She flutters his dark locks away from her cheek. His chest falls up and down slowly. She offers a foolish grin that is illuminated by the enormous screen in front of her. Chuckling, she gazes around her to identify people getting up to leave. They laugh hysterically and giggle – evidently enjoying their time at the movies. The credits scroll at a stable pace, but she can’t summon the will to rouse him up._  
  
_“I think I’m in love.” She murmurs gently to herself. She can’t imagine a better place to be, other than in his arms. “You are my soil. My growth. I can’t imagine a life without you.” He shuffles in her mighty arms at the sound of her musical voice. Inclining his head, he twists her body to confront the female near him._  
  
_“Sorry, I fell asleep. Is it over?” He looks over at the massive screen to witness the credits. He awkwardly laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Ah, man. I haven’t had much good sleep lately. I haven’t been eating.” Her heart twists at the thought of him in pain. Without scarcely thinking, she pulls out her delicate pink wallet and offers him money._  
  
_“Take it. Eat well, promise?” He doesn’t argue. He takes it innocently, not even mentioning how thankful he is. When his fingers touch hers, she cannot help but feel a violent wind of cold flow through her frail body. She thinks bitterly of jerking her hand back, placing the money back in her bag and bluntly informing him maybe he should get a job. Maybe he should get his own money._  
  
_But under the dying influence of sacrificial love, she offers her heart to him. He merely takes it. “I love you.” He whispers and bestows her a kiss on her cheek. She smiles and runs her hand through his hair. “You love me, right?”_  
  
_“Of course.” She smiles, though the emptiness in her gut says otherwise. “I think I’m in love with you.” He doesn’t respond. He nods and clasps her hand. That is as far as her worth gets._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, yes I know I promised a double update on my Instagram... that shit will be up tomorrow night. i stay true to my word. see you guys then!


	19. Realism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is very straightforward, whether that be a good or bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just as I promised, here is the next chapter.

It doesn’t take much for me to adapt. It gets even worse when I’m drunk. From a stranger’s standpoint, I can come off as distant, blunt, vulgar, irritating, and just an overall oddball. But minutes later after gurgling Tequila and liters of sweet drinks, it isn’t hard for me to find friends. Hell, without nightclubs, I would have probably died from isolation a long time ago. The drinks have manipulated my brain plenty of times, and those are the moments where I either find someone to hook up with, have a worthless deep talk with a stranger, or get kicked out because I get upset when they cut me off drinks.

Call me the epitome of evolution, I guess. Yet, it will probably be the one thing that will get me killed. Just as easy as it is for me to adapt, it is just as easy for me to feel at home. And when I feel at home, I get comfortable, and when I get comfortable, I tend to forget that not all people are like me. That’s what happened with Erwin.

You can also call me crazy, but when I was eighteen, no one could tell me Erwin wasn’t the _one_ for me. He was tall, rich, handsome: the perfect Captain America. He was everything I wasn’t. He was soft-spoken with smooth words. He took care of me. I let him, too, like the puppy dog I was. I was young and stupid. Young and horny. Young and in love. Didn’t matter back then, of course, because he was grown and was taking care of someone who never experienced that type of love before.

I used to adore when he would buy me things. Mom couldn’t afford much growing up, so having someone of such caliber buy me things was a new kind of happiness. Every day I would come home to roses, candles, candy, and alcohol. He managed my entire life – literally, considering my Mom kicked me out and I moved in with him. He held my worth in the palm of his hands. If he wanted to throw me away, he could have. I would have moved on. _Hell_ , it was my time to move on. I didn’t need to stay attached to his hip my whole life.

But I did until I came home after seeing Mom _working_ that night...I digress, because even though Erwin fucked me over, I told myself I would never put myself in that situation again. Even though it was puppy love, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

 It didn’t matter though, because I told myself I wouldn’t do that again. I won’t get so stuck by someone that my life revolves around them – mentally and physically. I would be free to do whatever I please. I could go to a bar and fuck whoever I wanted. I could have millions of cats if I wanted to. Fuck relationships. Fuck liking people. Fuck feeling like you’re at home. Fuck it all, because it’s all _delusions_. It’s never real.

_…But here I go, doing it all over again._

When I wake up the next morning, Eren’s body is sparkling by the sunlight peeking through the curtains. His hair curls over his forehead, and his mouth is open slightly to release soft breaths. I blink at the view and try not to move. With the way the light bends over his form in orange-hues, it makes him look angel-like. I tilt my head against the couch to get a better gaze.

There is nothing about Eren that is likable. He is annoying, dramatic, childish, demanding, and annoyingly wealthy. He is the epitome of a person I would avoid, especially after my rendezvous with Erwin. The rich, the overly-masculine, and the straight have never been my type. Truly, before even meeting Eren, I knew the Jaeger family had a dynamic I wouldn’t click well with.

Yet, there is nothing about Eren that _isn’t_ admirable. He has helped me at times no one else have. He offered me a home. He gave me a dog. He fulfilled those punctures in my gut that wished for a familial community. He tried to give me all the pieces, even if they were broken, even if he didn’t notice, and jam the isolated funnel in my heart.

 He tried to be the _big brother_ his father told him he should be. I never noticed until then. Through struggles and fights, Eren kept me. Did it all derive from his father’s word? Or did he just pity me? By the love expressed in his voice when he described his father, I wonder if it was all for him. Perhaps, I was foolish to think it was all circumstantial.

It was foolish of me to have that glimmer of hope. So silly, so desperate to think he found worth in my being. So idiotic to tell him I like him. So dumb to say it, even though I’m not sure, and even though I know it is something I told myself I would never do again.

I’m getting all in my head again.

“Eren.” A whisper erupts from my throat. I have to get out of my own thoughts anyway. “Wake up.” He doesn’t move nor shuffle at my voice. I blink and gaze at the sunrise. The moment is too delicate, too raw, too cliché. He needs to wake up. “Get up.” My voice triggers nothing.

I know my hands would suffice, but I have the urge to never touch him again.

_“Do you think I’m disgusting?”_

The sunrise is beautiful. The mixture of ripe orange and vermillion glare against the hotel floor. I swallow the lump in my throat and lift my hand to touch Eren. His figure is still slouched, evidently in a deep sleep. My fingers start to shake. My breathing gets a little heavy. My hand makes it about an inch away from his shoulder before I retract it. Instead, I yell.

“ _Eren_!” His eyes fly open. He jumps up from his slouch and looks over at me quickly. The look of panic glosses over his face, but I ignore it as best as I can. I open my mouth to say something, but I have nothing to say. In fact, I don’t even know why I woke him up.

“What? What’s wrong?” His voice is raspy. He looks around the room as he questions me, probably recalling we are still at the hotel. After a few seconds, he ceases and turns to gaze at me. “Hmm?”

“Someone is at the door.” I blurt out the lie. His expression softens from worry to amusement. Shaking his head, he throws the covers away from his form and stands up. He strolls toward the door with sly comments exiting his mouth.

“We doing this every day now?” He murmurs on his walk. The humor is delicate on his tongue. My mouth doesn’t convey a rebuttal. I feel drained. When he walks back into the room, he wipes his hand down his face and then scratches the back of his head. “I think you’re hearing stuff now.” I don’t answer. The sunrise looks awfully hypnotizing.

“Do you want me to heat up leftovers for breakfast?” He questions. It goes in one ear and out the other. When I don’t answer, I guess he assumes I’m cranky. He sighs and walks into the kitchen. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The whole hotel room smells like fresh food in about twenty minutes. Eren places a plate full of my leftover hash browns, sautéed in seasoning to bring the flavor out. Eren himself is holding a plate of pancakes, perfectly sized and showing him in a relatively calm mood. I wonder why.

When I don’t reach down to eat the hash browns, Eren sits on the couch near me and tries to make eye contact with me. “What’s up with you? I'm not used to the silent treatment from you.” I avoid looking at him. Anxiety bubbles in my chest at his proximity. “What, I gotta feed you now?” He whispers as he grabs the plate of potatoes. He scoops some up on a fork and pushes it toward me. I recoil and scowl slightly. “Come on, say ‘ _ahhh’_ ”

“Eren, stop.” I sturdily say. My hand slaps the food and it falls onto the floor. Eren looks down at it before sighing and shaking his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Fine.” He picks the fork up and throws it onto the glass table. “I’ll eat it.” He munches on the food that was originally mine. So, there we sit, in complete silence, made awkward by yours truly. When Eren finishes his meal, he stacks up the plate on the table and runs his hand through his ruffled hair. “I was thinking we could leave here tomorrow. I need to face them sometime.” He sighs. “Plus, I have work.”

“That’s fine.” I murmur out. Eren turns his head toward me at my response. I try my best not to look back at him. He ceases in slouching and leans back against the couch to be closer to me. He smells like faded cologne. Not the cologne that brought back memories, but the smell that brought new ones. A new one that revolved around Eren, and Eren only.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Leave it.”

“These couple of days at the hotel have literally been our diary periods.” Eren keeps looking at me, no matter how many times I try and avoid eye contact. “The least you could do is be consistent in how you are feeling. I’ve had _enough_ mood swings.”

“At least you know.” Eren rolls his eyes at my response and crosses his arms over each other. I shake my head and shuffle into the covers. “Order something to drink.”

“What do I look like asking them to bring me Bourdon at nine in the morning? Are you dumb?”

“Then I don’t know what you want from me.” I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve run out on my social meter. I miss Eddy. I’m tired. I don’t want to be here anymore.” Eren looks at me like I’m crazy.

“We literally spent all night watching cliché ass television shows and an awful horror movie. I’m really not understanding where all this hostility is coming from.”

I don’t respond. My shoulders shrug themselves. Eren doesn’t say much after that. He sighs and looks around the hotel room in reflection. Finally, after seemingly making a decision, he gets up from the couch and starts to walk toward the bedroom. “We’ll leave tonight.” – is all he says. The bedroom door closes with a soft thud, leaving me in solitude.

Immediately, I lift my hands and rub them down my face in exasperation. “I’m so fucking _stupid_ …” I whisper to myself. My body lifts itself off the couch and crouches over into a hover. Sighing, I mutter insults to myself and pull my dark locks carefully. How many times have we argued this whole trip? Why do we keep going back and forth, as if there is a cord that keeps causing tension among us? I lick my dry lips and take my hand off my head.

It’s like we are both full-blown balloons, rolling and bumping each other in a ring. But the slightest sharp thing, which doesn’t take much to make, pops one of us. If it isn’t one, it’s the other. Or both. But nonetheless, we are vulnerable to go off. What makes us so bloated? Why are we clashing heads so much, and if we are not, why do I feel like I _need_ to?

I so painfully want to pick up the hotel telephone and ask for them to bring me up something to drink. How cliché is that? Drinking alcohol, like every television shows, to diminish my problems. Those scenes are quite possibly the most underestimated moments in media. Who really understood the grief emitting from a person who finds happiness in the bottle? Who knew that would be _me_ , except the television is off, and the only thing I can hear is the sound of my rummaging thoughts telling me it was my fault.

You didn’t have to bring it up. You could have bypassed it as one of those anomalies in life, one of those things you notice you or another person did and just blamed it on the odds. But you didn’t. You purposely made a big deal out of your own actions, taking them out of proportion and possibly reading the situation the wrong way. But isn’t that what you do? Or is your fatal flaw the fact you blame it on yourself and isolate yourself, thinking maybe that is for the best. It is for the best Eren stays at arm’s length.

It is the _best_ for Eren to stay at arm’s length. Whether that be by me isolating myself or starting up arguments that don’t need to be there. It is best for him to stay where he is. I don’t want to help him grow. I don’t want to dig into the deep valve in his heart, unlocking it and revealing all of his secrets. I don’t want to see it, because I know it will end up tearing me down in the process. He can change. I don’t want to change.

For some reason, we are interconnected. We click in the oddest ways. Whatever I lack, Eren makes up for it with his arrogant, yet confident personality. Whatever Eren lacks, I make up for with my vulgar mouth and obscenity. We fulfill puzzle pieces of each other without even realizing we are playing the game.

Yet, this isn’t love. But even the slightest admiration toward someone like Eren is fearful. It is something I told myself I needed to avoid. People like him drain people like _me_. Even if we compliment each other, our toxicity would drive us up the roof. It is not realistic. It is a childish dream. Eren’s charm is undefeated, but I know it will take me out one day. It is far too powerful for me to sustain.

But it doesn’t even matter. All of what I’m feeling is fruitless. Eren would never feel even remotely similar. This spark is just visible by my eyes, and my eyes only.

 

Getting into Eren’s mini-coupe to drive back home is oddly lethargic. It brings back memories of the time we met. I notice the stains from our mini-food fight are gone, especially on my side. There is the faint smell of bleach and pineapples. I love the smell of pineapple. I look around the car and notice an air freshener attached to the air vent. Scowling, I inhale the air and immediately relax at the smell.

Eren prefers the smell of lavender and has started to dislike fruity scents. It makes me wonder why he chose pineapple of all scents. Or maybe I’m just reading to into it.   

Eren clicks his seatbelt across him slowly. He hasn’t spoken to me once. I put on my seatbelt as well and by instinct, start flipping through the radio stations. Eren doesn’t question it. Eventually, I find a station playing Lauryn Hill and cease immediately. Her raspy voice flows through the interior of the car. It relaxes the dents in my shoulders and clears my mind.

_“[Let ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ceHBq8smJw)me be patient…let me be kind, make me unselfish…without being blind. Though I may suffer, I'll envy it not…and endure what comes, cause he's all that I got…and tell him.”_

Eren doesn’t object. If anything, it eases the tension between us as Eren drives on the road. It is getting pretty dark, as the sharp hues of orange and red across the sky is an indicator enough. Who knew we’d spend the whole day separated from each other. I see a glimpse of the dim moon starting to appear. I lean my head against the seat and gaze out the window. Even with the music playing, the anxiety in my gut is telling me to get away. I won’t be able to stay at the house. I don’t know what to do.

For the first time, I don’t know what to do.

 _“Tell him I need him, tell him I love him, and it’ll be alrigh –“_ Immediately, I turn off the radio. Scowling, I curse whatever gods ordered for this song to play at this sacred moment. Cliché piece of shit. Eren notices and turns his head toward me.

“Turn it back on – I like that song.”

“I have a headache.” Eren rolls his eyes and turns to radio on. He twists the knob for volume and gives me a cocky look.

“Then _turn_ it down.” He evidently says. I sway my head and cross my arms over each other stubbornly. “What kind of pizza do you like?” Eren suddenly announces. I scrunch up my eyebrows and look over at Eren questioningly.

“…bacon. Why?”

“Because I’m going to order some right now so we can eat at the house.” He announces. I guess his phone is connected to the car, because the minute he triggers a button, I can hear the incoming dial tone throughout the vehicle. I roll my eyes.

“First day back home and you order junk food.” I see the sly smirk on his face at my whisper.

_“Hello, welcome to Papa John’s, what can I get for you?”_

“Papa Johns? _Papa Johns_? Are you shitting me?” I blurt out accidentally. I rub my hand over my forehead and sigh loudly. “Life can’t get any worse, but now I have to eat dry ass pizza that I have to dip in a greasy fuckin’ garlic sauce to fulfill my hunger.” Eren’s jaw drops and he quickly hangs up the phone to the delivery place.

“First of all, you really have me fucked up if you think you are going to sit here and bash Papa John’s like their pizza is _not_ the fucking greatest thing ever made.”

“Shut up. Just, shut up.” I shake my hand in his face. Looking at the road, I notice we are a couple of blocks away from the house. “I tried to stay quiet, but you really just pissed me off.”

“Yeah, well, sorry your silent treatment went haywire because you hate Papa Johns so much, you fuckin’ psycho.”

“Put Domino’s on the goddamn line. I will order something.” Just as we pull up to Eren’s big ass mansion, I am dialing Domino’s number into Eren’s new phone. Eren parks behind his large ass front-yard fountain instead of in his garage. Because of this, we are both situated where we can view the front door. I ponder on who is inside, and for a brief moment I hope Eren’s mom is there so maybe we can get some clarity.

_“Hello, Welcome to Domino’s, what can I get for you?”_

“A large half and half bacon-pepperoni pizza –“ I cuddle the phone between my cheeks before taking a look toward Eren’s face. “ – and those lava cake shits. That’s it.” She confirms our order and ends up asking for the address, in which I throw the phone toward Eren to announce. He finishes up the call with a brief thanks and sighs as he tucks the phone into his pocket. “What time will it get here?”

“In about thirty minutes, _duh_.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Whatever, let’s go inside.” Eren unbuckles his seatbelt and grabs the door handle. “The tension is killing me.”

“They’re not home.” I murmur out loud as I look at the mansion’s various windows. “Your mom usually leaves on all the lights in the house when she is there. When she leaves, they turn off.” Eren scrunches his eyebrows up at me in confusion. “That’s why your electricity bills are so high, you fuckin’ idiot.”

“I honestly thought it was because she watches Grey’s Anatomy on repeat.”

“Yeah, well, you were wrong.” I sigh loudly. “She probably took Eddy with her. So much for our precious reunion after two days.” Eren hums. He situates himself more comfortably in the driver’s seat and leans back slowly. I lean my head against the window and gaze upon the enormous house’s look. The tree’s bristle in the wind and their leaves often flow into the water fountain. As the leaves rustle, I can’t help but love the sight of the moon as it’s backdrop. I sigh for what seems like the thousandth time today and flicker through the car radio once more.

 _“[I’m ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxcGhl-fQd0)an orange moon. I’m an orange moon, reflecting the light…of the…sun.” _ I close my eyes, memorized by the delicate voice playing on the radio. I have to say, Eren has good taste in music. _“Many nights, he was alone. Many, many, many nights. His light was too bright, so they turned away. Every night, and every day.”_

So, there we sat, wistfully watching the moon rise among a crowd of flowering trees on the horizon as we wait for pizza. The moon’s prominent craters are so distinct today that it almost feels like I’m among the skies. It feels so close. I want to reach out my hand and snatch it. How unrealistic, but nonetheless a desire I can’t find myself forfeiting. I’ve never had the chance to see it so full before. It makes life so much more real.

The more I stare, the more I can detect a look upon me, as if I’m the moon. My head turns slightly to see Eren’s fierce eyes studying me. The moonlight reflects on his face, irradiating his relatively soft countenance. I find myself enraptured. I tell myself to stop, or he’ll think I’m weird, but he looks stunning under the light. My eyelids blink, probably testing my brain on if I’m actually seeing what I’m seeing.

I scold myself for liking men like him. Every time it happens, I curse myself until witchcraft itself is overwhelmed. It always happens so quick, so painless, that I barely recognize it until I feel the agony inside my chest.

To subdue the pain erupting like glowing lava from my chest, I open my mouth to administer a comment about his staring. “What are you looking at?” I inquire him. He doesn’t react much. He inclines his head against the window, examining me with a look indescribable. Then, a smile stitches itself to his face. He chuckles and clutches the pants he is wearing with his fingers. “What?”

“I just –“ He instantly begins. He bobs his head and rubs his hand over his mouth in anxiety. I don’t comment. I merely stare at him with the yearning for an answer. “I just think…” The amount of uncertainty coming from his voice is concerning. I scrunch up my eyebrows and tilt my head. He notices. “ – you look…”

“ – really cool under the sunlight.” I blink. I blink twice. Eren strokes his hand over his face like a teenage girl confessing her dying love. I get even more confused.

“You mean moonlight?”

“Yes, fuck, that’s what I meant. Listen, forget it. I’m just stupid. It’s honestly my fucking career at this point.” Eren avoids looking me in my eyes and decides to stare at the moon again. My hand's fiddle with each other in my lap, evidently nervous. My thoughts race consistently in my head, but I can’t seem to formulate them into words. There is this feeling in my gut, telling me to test the waters. Just to see how _you_ are _feeling_. I tell myself –

Just see. Just see what happens - see how you feel and if all of this is even **_real_**. The worst that can happen is he kicks you out. You’ll just go live Kenny. I’ll risk it all, if only I can be vulnerable for once and succumb to my savage instinct. These ribbons we have, whether fabricated or not, are there. I want to try, I mean – I have to try, because god knows Eren would never. Even if he did have the slightest attraction to me, which I’m sure he doesn’t, _I know him_ , and he would never in his fucking life make the first move.

He is prideful like that, and it is just the type of shit that is going to end up causing me trouble in the future.

“I thought you were a lawyer…” I murmur as a joke. My hands retreat from their hidden coven. I fix my shoulders and reach over for Eren’s shoulder. He notices my arm lifting and looks over at me. My hand flattens onto the stiffened muscle. My heart is beating so quickly that I wonder if he can hear it. Suddenly, my affection overcomes me, and my hand begins to flow up his neck like a cat rubbing its head on its owner’s cheek. My fingers comb through his locks, and I wonder if he notices the weakened look on my face.

Then I realize what I’ve done. My hand starts to retreat after a couple of seconds. Sincere regret fills my stomach like a spewing water fountain. Though, just as my hand pulls back, he seizes it with his warm palm. It feels as if a heater is conducting throughout my body. A shiver runs up my traceable back at the warmth he emits. I expect a soft push, anything to push away what he might deem as repulsive.

Yet, the pull on my arm is so rough I don’t even notice his lips coalescing with mine. There is no time for jaw drops, or gasps, or anything remotely related to surprise. There is only the moment - the moment of it all. There is no time for shock, because all I can feel is my heart calming to a steady beat. The brilliant moon keeps rising. The cicadas traditionally keep chirping. The world keeps moving, as if this isn’t such a big deal as I made it out to be.

He slowly clutches the back of my head and opens his mouth willingly. My hand pries itself from his grip and grabs the back of his neck. The knot keeps tightening, because as we pull against each other, our lips move even quicker. The minimal sounds of our brief separations leave me yearning for another, as the sound of it reminds me of the clicking of my tongue when Eren does something stupid. Eren does this, Eren does that, Eren says this and he solely drives me _crazy_ sometimes.

It is something I’m so used to. So, so used to.

The more I think about it, the more my emotions flood into our touching. I break away for a few precious seconds and sit up from my seat. My rosy lips earnestly press against his once more, yet this time he is leaning away from me due to my intruding form. At this point, I’m leaning so far over that if I elevated a leg, I’d be sitting on his lap. I can’t find anything bad about that, so the minute I separate from his petal-like lips, I clutch his broad shoulders and begin to lather my body onto his –

“Excuse me…eh…sir?” And just like that, the spell snaps. Eren jumps from the seat and looks out the driver’s seat window. I mean, what a _sight_ – Eren’s lips a bright red, cheeks a brightening crimson, and me halfway in his lap ready to basically fuck under the moonlight. Yet, the pizza man just chuckles awkwardly and gestures the pizza in his hands. “Delivery? No one was answering the front door.”

Eren’s jaw drops for a second and starts to stutter out a response. He looks back and forth between me and the pizzaman, as if he has to make a _decision_. Fucking idiot. I shake my head and hold my hand out for the pizza. The man gives it to me happily, probably excited to step out of the awkward situation. He is so frantic that he ends up running from us and back to his car, forgetting that we didn’t even pay.

“Wait, he didn’t get the money –“ Eren interrupts. He tries to move with me in his lap, but ends up struggling so bad that it’s laughable. I chuckle heartily at the struggle. “Will you get _off_ me, fat ass!”

“Are you asking for a death wish? Don’t ever in your life call me that again.”

“Yeah, well if you would get off me, I wouldn’t have to! I don’t even know what is wrong with you, climbing onto my lap like that! Do you know the concept of –“ Eren pauses and shakes his head. “- nevermind, just get off!” I don’t. I stay stubbornly. I flip open the pizza box in my hand and grab a slice nonchalantly. Eren sighs loudly and rubs his eyes with irritation.

“You got yourself in this position,” I tell him confidently. My mouth tears the pizza slice hungrily. I shrug my shoulders and continue eating. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Eren glares at me as I speak. I want to smirk. I want to smile. But I don’t even know if what I’m doing is _right_. God knows now that I _know_ , everything will go downhill from here. He’ll realize it all. He won’t be here for long. I’m sure of it.

“Can…” Eren ponders after a few moments. He just watches me eat, like a homemade creep. I roll my eyes and jerk my head at him. “Can we talk about this…?” He finally says. His shaky voice plucks my heartstrings like thorns. There is anxiety, uncertainty, and possibly the slightest hint of _regret_ shadowing his words. I situate the pizza away from my mouth and nod slowly. My last thoughts recap over and over again in my head.

 _Regret._ All I can do is live in the moment, and hope for mercy in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it may seem like things are moving fast (or not)...but....i'm so ready to implement the drama/angst, yall don't even know. been ready for this shit since i started lmaoo! took me 19 chapters to spark the fire, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
> 
> next chapter will be here next week, unless I have a complete binge on writing. let me know what you think!


	20. The Home is Laughing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here is an awkward way of saying 'let's take it very, very slow...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya heya, i'm here on a Saturday night after watching Deadpool 2 with a great taste in humor. here is a chapter to fuel your needs. it is about 6,000 words. this bitch was thirsty for some development.

I desired it, but when I had it, I knew I shouldn’t have wished for it at all.

Kissing Levi is something indescribable. It felt like I had become one with him, and when we separated, the crave to become one again exceeded a thousand limits. His lips, similar to a silver magnet, lathered me in comfort I’ve never received before. No, I could never get this feeling from anyone else but him.

That feeling of reassurance, appreciation, and understanding. The feeling of closeness – _intimacy_. Is this what I had been missing? But why did it have to be from someone like Levi, someone I know nothing about? Why do all these feelings buried in my stomach have to emerge only when Levi’s lips touch mine?

These past weeks, I’ve been yearning for something I didn’t know I wanted. This is all I wanted. I wanted to embrace him in all forms and fully indulge my being in the mysterious Levi. Why? That is the fucked-up part - _I don’t even know_. I just know when he is around, life gets better. Life gets funnier, less serious, and life brings me joy.

He is my walking metaphor. He feels like _home_. And coming home has never been so…relaxing. I’ve always wondered how that felt: _home_. The perfect household – with a mom, a dad, sisters, and brothers. How did it feel to have that? _Levi_ …he bunches it all into one. He is the home, and he even has a dog to go with it.

I can’t imagine home feeling like anyone else but him.

So, when I kiss him with so much passion, admiration, and hope, I can’t help but feel disappointed when it doesn’t solve anything. It doesn’t take away all the thoughts in my head. It doesn’t get rid of the pain sulking in my chest from my parents’ affair. The hurt is still there. I thought he would solve it all.

In fact, the pain got worse, because all I could see when we separated was the look of regret plastered on Levi’s face.

Somethings should just be left _desired_. I shouldn’t have chased after it. I should have let his arm pull back and we would have enjoyed the moonlight once more. It would have fulfilled my joy for that day. That would be all I needed. But I didn’t, and I asked for more instead. And now, Levi gazes at me with this look close to guilt and remorse and I can’t help but feel as if it is all my fault.

“Can…” It stutters out my mouth unconsciously. Levi tilts his head at me, even though he is still in my lap and holding a rather hot slice of pizza. Even under those circumstances, I still find beauty in him. Just enough beauty to tell myself that I’m not meant to have any of it for myself. “Can we talk about this…?” It finally flows out. I lick my lips and look down at my lap. I vaguely see Levi nod his head.

 _‘Can we just…forget about this?’_ I want to say. But we can’t. If I thought my parents’ affair changed everything, then I evidently didn’t think about the consequences of falling for someone like Levi.

I initiate for us to get out the car and head inside the house. Moreover, I wanted him to stop sitting in my lap because I had already decided that my desires should cease there. I’m not wanted here. It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.

“Eren.”

The minute my hands clutch the handle to my front door to push it open, my twin sister is pulling at it on the other side. The strength of our input startles us, and the minute we see each other, our eyes widen like dinner plates. Mikasa’s face softens delicately and she recoils her hand away from the door. “ _Eren_.” She repeats with desperation on her face. Her hands situate themselves on the side of her hips and I can tell she is trying hard not to engulf me in an embrace. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…” I respond slowly. Her form deflates and the panic escapes her countenance. “What are you doing here? I’m sure you don’t have the key to this place –“

“I dropped my slice of pizza on the ground and it was your half. I know you told me not to eat yours, but you know, it just made me want to do it more.” Levi comes stumbling up the steps after grabbing all of the items we just bought. The second he sees Mikasa, his mouth closes to zip and he looks back and forth between us. He shuffles unconsciously on his feet. “I didn’t expect this.”

“Yeah… me either, um, Mikasa?” I elevate my eyebrows to show my eagerness for an answer. Mikasa opens her mouth to speak, but when her eyes flicker to Levi, her mouth stays closed. She shakes her head and crosses her arms over each other.

“Can we talk…in _private_?” My eyes widen even more at her request. Levi scoffs and looks over at me with a childish look on his face. Our tension is bad enough considering we just fucking _kissed_ , and here Mikasa goes making it even more awkward.  Shrugging, he pushes past Mikasa and starts to wander into the living room, which is relatively far away from us both. As Levi leaves, I can’t help but feel the urge to call him back.

I feel as though there is a knife hanging above the ribbon connecting us right now, and I’d rather not tempt it to fall anytime soon.

Mikasa snaps her fingers in front of my face when my gaze gets lost down the corridor. I jerk my head and look over at Mikasa. Closing the front door, I lock it and stuff my hands into my slack pockets as I wait for Mikasa to explain why the hell she is in my house. There had been a reason she _wasn’t_ given the key.

“Are you feeling well?” She asks me with overwhelming concern. She pushes an onyx lock behind her ear and lowers the pitch of her voice. “You’ve been gone for hours, Eren. We’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m a grown man, Mikasa. I don’t need anyone to be watching over me.” I respond instantly.

“I understand that, but I assume after seeing Mom and Dad having an affair, you’d be pretty fucked up right about now.” She blurts. I cease in my movement and analyze Mikasa’s words. Taking my hands out my pockets, I cross my hands over each other and tilt my head accusingly at her.

“Did you know?”

“Of course not, Eren! Don’t accuse that shit of me –“ She states angrily. “ – Mom has a big fucking mouth. She came over my house in mid-panic attack when you didn’t come home. Thought you went and died or something. She is pretty dramatic when it comes to you, you know that.” Mikasa sighs exasperatingly. “Then I told her I would call you. Then you didn’t answer, so I got even more worried and we ended up camping here for the night. Mom just went to get us dinner.” She crosses her arms over her chest just as intimidatingly as me. I chuckle and place my hand's side by side once more.

“ _Great_ , so she is on her way?”

“Probably. Look Eren, I understand you are upset, but -” Mikasa opens and closes her mouth, trying to find the right words to say. “She is a wreak right now. Just… _give her a break_.”

Give her a break. Give her…a _break_. “Yeah.” I murmur. “Sure, Mikasa.” My eyes avert themselves from her form. I don’t feel like talking to her at all now. “You can leave now. I’m home and fine.”

“Please, Eren, don’t start this shit right now.”

“Start _what_? I fucking asked you to leave, Mikasa. There is a reason you don’t have a fucking key to my house.” Mikasa rolls her eyes at me and starts point fingers.

“I’m saying – don’t start this shit right now. Mom and I have been panicking over your ass these past few days and the least you could fucking do is say _sorry_.” Her finger digs into my chest. “I skipped work for two days and haven’t eaten all day because of you. Mom has been crying nonstop and Jean has been up my ass –“

“ – that has nothing to do with me –“

“It has everything to do with you!” Her loud voice vibrates my eardrums. My heart starts to thump quickly, whether that be out of anger or guilt. “What has been up with you lately, anyway? Skipping work, cursing out Mom, letting that guy–“ Her finger gestures the living room. “ – stay at your house? I’m just… _confused_. Then you go on this rampage where you leave for two days with no contact. Do you not give a fuck?” Mikasa starts shaking her head in dismay, her black locks swaying with her.

My eyes are fixated on nothing but imaginary air. I start licking my lips, and the more she talks, the more I remember why I fucking hate coming _home_. Finally, I snap out of my reverie and rub my temples slowly.

“Can you just leave?”

“…no, Eren.”

“You know, I find it hilarious that you are here complaining to me about what I’m doing wrong, Mikasa.” My mouth starts running, and I know the shit I’m about to say is about to start a whole other argument. “Did you expect me to just stand there, right in front of my parents fucking in the living room, and ask for an explanation? Then afterwards, I was supposed to understand and move on, right? _Right_? Because I’m supposed to be what you call a _man_.” Anger starts to flow through my body. “A _man_ , _right_?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have the right to be upset.” My voice cools down in pitch. “I have the right to leave when I feel that way.” I start to walk toward the living room when I feel like the conversation is dead. Mikasa sighs at my comment and begins to grab her coat off the rack near her. Her last words feel like a sword puncturing my chest.

“I understand, but you don’t have the right to be a burden.” My feet halt. Sparks of thunder zap through my chest and I can feel my eyes getting heavy. Slowly turning my head, I gaze at Mikasa with a look indescribable. She waits for a response. Her eyebrows raise, and before I can respond, she continues. “You can cry and whine all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact it happened. So, put on your big boy pants and get your fuckin’ life together.” She grabs my shoulder, just like Levi did before kissing me, and looks into my eyes. “ – and start by kicking that runt out. It will all work out from there.”

The need to respond exits. I turn away from her and lift my head to look at the ceiling. Mikasa’s hand leaves my shoulder and she eventually walks over to the front door. “I’ll tell Mom to come over my house tonight. I’ll drop her off in the morning. Use this time of solitude to think about how you are going to confront her, okay?” My figure is as still as a statue. Mikasa notices grimly but doesn’t comment. She opens the front door, bringing in all the cold breeze, and closes it with her lasting words. “ _Love_ you, goodnight.”

The click of the door is the only noise I have before five minutes pass. I stand near the front door, listening to Mikasa opening my garage to get her car. I ignore the fact my mini-coupe is still in the driveway and begin to stroll into the kitchen. As I do, I notice Levi sitting on the couch in the living room, cuddling Eddy in his lap. When Levi sees me, he lifts Eddy’s head to show me his growing figure. I expect him to make a comment about how much he missed Eddy, but he ends up just scratching the back of his ears and coddling him.

My figure walks over to the kitchen counter where a couple of drinks sit. They were probably from Mikasa and Mom. I look at them both, noticing them both full of juice. I lean over the counter back and forth, my feet not wanting to sit still. Her words haven’t hit yet. I close my eyes and stop rocking back and forth. Sighing, I clench my fists and glare deadly down at the drinks on the counter.

“Eddy, stop biting my fing –“ The familiar sound of Levi’s pleasant voice is cut off by the clash of glass slamming onto the ground. The liquids splash over the refrigerator, leaving a ghastly crimson color on the white cover and counters. The shattered glass scatters across the gritty floor. Not even seconds later, the delicate pitch of glass increases once more as a deep, orange liquid flies across the kitchen room. It falls to the ground with a dull splash, along with the brittle glasses’ deteriorating form.

 _‘You don’t have the right to be a burden.’_ My fists grip the counter chairs with growing vexation. I pull them and toss them across the room, not caring at the mess I was making. I stop within a few moments, realizing that my anger was winning over me, and end up slouching on the counter in despair. My breathing becomes so labored that I don’t even know if air is going in or not.

Nonetheless, after a few minutes, I start to calm down. The broken glass on the ground is what I decide to avoid, along with the sticky liquid. I step over it and stroll over to the living room where Levi is still sitting. His hand is rubbing Eddy’s fur so softly that I wish it were me. _God, I’m fucking delusional, over here wishing I was a dog_.

I sit down on the couch a few inches away from Levi. His metallic-like eyes peer up to gaze at me discretely. He raises his eyebrows and places Eddy between us. “I’m not cleaning that shit up.” He murmurs to me slowly. I scoff and begin to rub the dog behind his ears. His tongue rolls out his mouth so fast that it is almost comical. Smiling, I begin to lean against the couch while trying to forget the events that just occurred.

But of course, Levi doesn’t like uncertainty. “What did she say?” He asks me. I blink a few times and avert my eyes from the dog’s form. Levi peers at me concerningly. I open my mouth to respond the best I could at the moment.

“Shit a sister shouldn’t say,” I answer. Levi nods his head in understanding and leans back against the couch with me. Eddy is content where he is. His eyes start to get heavy and before we know it, he falls asleep. I talk my hand off his head and place it on my lap. After a few moments, I cut the silence. “Why is so much shit happening this week?” I think out loud. Levi tilts his head toward me.

“Don’t ask me.”

“It was rhetorical,” I mutter. Lifting my head, I decide this is the moment to bring it up. The lump in my throat prevents me from speaking, but after a few moments, I muster up the guts to speak. “The pizza is probably col –“

“We can forget about it.” Levi interrupts me instantly. He sits up from the couch and avoids looking me in the eyes. “I just acted on instinct. Don’t let it ruin your day or anything. Just…” He sighs. “…focus on the shit you have going on now. It was an accident.”

I wanted it so bad. So, so bad. I loved it so much, but here I am, shaking my head and agreeing with him. “Okay,” I respond. “It’s okay. I still don’t think…” The lump in my throat returns. “ – you aren’t disgusting, Levi.” Levi turns his head to peer at my face. The sincerity emitting from me is strong. He then nods his head in agreement and starts to fiddle with his fingers.

“So…should we heat up the pizza?” He mentions. I elevate my eyebrows slowly and nod. My body begins to move, but Levi’s hand on my chest stops me. “I’ll get it.” He says. My eyes widen slightly, but I don’t complain otherwise. I watch his form walk away from the living room and into the kitchen. From there, all I can hear is the sound of the microwave turning on and the subtle sounds of glass breaking under his shoes.

Suddenly, another sound infiltrates my ears. I look down and see Levi’s phone, or mine, ringing with a specific contact name. Picking up the phone, I glare at the name suspiciously and look over at Levi who is bringing over a pile of pizza on a plate. He sets it down on the counter before us and leans back against the couch once more. “There.” He says. “Thank me later.”

“You have a phone call.” I blurt out. Levi’s eyebrows raise in confusion, but otherwise snatches the phone out of my hands and glares at the contact. “Who is it?”

“None of your business.” He swipes the phone and holds it up to his ear. As he does, he grabs the plate of pizza and slaps it down on my lap. The heat from the food warms up my lap, but I ignore it in favor of listening as closely as possible to Levi’s phone call.

“Hello…? Why are you calling me?’ Levi’s voice sounds with a mixture of annoyance, but also surprise. He fiddles with the phone against his ear and grabs a piece of pizza from my lap. “I’m fine. What do you want?” The hostility in his voice is slightly frightening. I wiggle my lips and look away from Levi, making it seem like I’m minding my business. But of course, I’m not.  “…I’ll think about it. Bye.” He hurriedly hangs up the phone on the person and throws the phone onto the floor. Scowling, he angrily picks the pizza toppings off and munches on them.

“That sounded friendly,” I respond after a few seconds. Levi looks over at me to respond, but his eyes end up widening as he looks down at my lap. I register the surprise and look down to see Eddy, who is now wide awake, munching and slobbering on our pyramid of pizza. “Eddy! What the _fuck_!” I grab him, though he is getting heavy as fuck, and push him towards Levi’s form. Levi grabs his dog and starts to curse immediately.

“Look at you, fucking up and making our pizza dog chow! You’re lucky this shit was free!”

“And if it wasn’t? I paid for this shit, so shut your ass up!” I groan at the dog slobber littering my lap. Scowling, I flick Eddy on his nose and place the pile of pizza on the counter. “Bad dog! Your diet is organic enough, considering I can’t find any blueberries in my fridge anymore…” I give a lingering stare at Levi, who jerks his head at me and starts petting Eddy once more. “Should have called him Berry or Fruity or some shit.”

“You’re fruitier than him,” Levi whispers lowly, but I hear him with clear ears. Scowling, I glare over at Levi and squint my eyes. A smirk begins to grow on his face like plants after a soothing rain shower. He tilts his head to lay on the couch, and I find myself almost getting used to the delicate sight. “…Too soon?” Even though he knows the situation to be potentially sensitive, he still sits here, joking about it. I can’t help but shake my head and showcase a small grin myself.

“You are such an _asshole_.” He laughs, though it is more of a continuous chuckle, and it rumbles the undertones near me. His eyes are clinched closed as he laughs and his lips have a dainty gloss. He tosses his head over once more toward me, and his eyes open to peer at my still form. As his snickers cool down, I actively wonder if it will ever be possible to kiss a laugh.

“Tell me, have you ever met anyone as great as me, Eren?” He means it as a joke, telling by the way his eyebrows raise comically and Eddy’s subtle licks on his cheek. When I answer with a rather ambiguous eyebrow elevation, he just chuckles again and sits up from the couch. He places Eddy down on the floor and watches him run around the room instantly. “I’m honestly great.”

“Your positivity is radiating,” I mention sarcastically. But before I get myself off track, I turn my head and itch the back of my head subconsciously. “What was that phone call about?” Levi peers up at me slowly. I see his reluctance quickly, and just as I’m about to tell him it isn’t any of my business, he opens his mouth.

“My sister.” He claims. “Ironic, isn’t it? Both are bothering the shit out of us.” He murmurs. I nod my head in agreement and watch Eddy roll on his back near Levi’s foot. Levi unconsciously begins to rub his stomach. “That’s the first time she has talked to me in a month.”

“Is this that one chick with the red hair? Marrying that one guy…though she is young as hell.”

“Sounds like her.”

“You guys look nothing alike.” Levi huffs at my response. He slyly replies.

“I don’t have an excuse relating to nose jobs and other shit. We are step-siblings; she came from another marriage on my father’s side.” And just like that, a light bulb sparks above my head.

“Oh _yeahhh_ ,” I linger, “I remember Kuchel sayin’ some shit like that. Were you – uh,” I pause in my mini-interrogation. Levi raises an eyebrow. “Nevermind. I’m getting nosy.”

“You have been this whole time. You just asked me about a private phone call.” Levi cockily begins picking at his fingernails. “Mind your business, you old fart.”

“Fuck you.”

“ _’Levi, I’ve been talking to Farlan lately and… I think you should come over.’”_ Levi’s pitch raises completely. He imitates who I can only assume as his step-sister. “ _’I know we are on bad terms, but I want to see you. And I have a clean room.’_ ” Levi rolls his eyes after the act and shakes his head. “Not one apology, but the phone call sufficed, eh.” I want to laugh at his horrible imitation of his sister, but I can’t help but linger on the last words coming out his mouth.

“Clean room? You mean, over her house, I’m assuming?” Coughing, I get the lump forming out my throat and try to deter my gut from interfering. Levi looks over at me and nods his head slowly. “So…she is offering you a place to stay.”

“After a fucking month, though I do admit, Isabel’s house is pretty nice.” He begins to bask in memory on the couch. “Not too big. She has really nice beds, and she has a lot of alcohol. Doesn’t lock it up either. She also always keeps orange juice in stock.” His eyes peer at my countenance. “It’s a thought.” His last words linger dangerously. Rolling my eyes, I try not to show much emotion as I lean against the couch once more.

“Well, if you do, don’t try to steal my fucking pajamas.” I point a finger at him. “I’m sick of you wearing my Harvard pants like you’re hot shit. I got my Ph.D. there, so don’t flatter yourself.”

“I did get my degree there, I’m _telling_ you.” He mutters discretely.

“Shut _up_. Also, I will be checking all my face masks to make sure you don’t steal any.” Levi’s head bounces up at the mention and he gives a sly grin.

“Speaking of face masks, I’m feeling dry today. Eddy –“ He makes a tutting noise with his tongue. “ – let’s go!” And just like that, Eddy gets excited and runs toward my bedroom upstairs. Levi lifts himself off the couch and looks down at me with a look hard to decipher. “Come on, I’m ready to sleep anyways.”

Walking into my bedroom is like walking into an entirely different house. There is a different vibe to the entire area. The way Eddy runs around on the bed before settling in the middle, or the way Levi percolates through my drawers with an instinct of where everything is – they all remind me of something much homier. As I stroll into my bedroom, I look at the hectic scene with more regret than before.

Levi changes into my Harvard pants, of course just to taunt me, along with a solid white V-neck. He emerges from the bathroom and shakes his head at me, as if telling me to come to the bathroom. I scrunch up my eyebrows and walk-in concerningly. As I do, I am witnessed to the view of Levi having all of my facemasks set out on the sink and ready for choosing. He looks at me to decipher.

“Which one? I don’t know the difference between all this shit, and we ran out of the old stuff.” I roll my eyes and start to look at the labels of facemasks.

“Of course you did, dry-faced ass.” I hold up a specific product and read the ingredients. “This has coconut and milk. Good if you want soft skin – “ Before I can finish, Levi snatches the package away from me and begins to open it instinctively.

“Sounds great.”

“What the fuck, I didn’t even finish! What if I wanted to use that one?”

“I don’t care – you have other shit! Here,” Levi hands me a tube of liquid facemask and wiggles it in my face. “This will get rid of all your nasty ass blackheads.”

“I know you’re not talking with your long ass nose hairs.” Levi doesn’t respond, because before he can, he wraps his hair up in an ugly bun and places the milky mask on his face. It merges with his skin comfortably, and just by looking at it, I know it will leave his face soft. The whole mask covers his whole face but his eyes. So, as he stands there with the inability to speak, I find this my chance to shine. “ – and that receding hai- _ow_!” He pinches my bicep cockily, and I could have sworn I saw a smirk underneath the ivory mask.

Minutes later, we both stand in front of the bathroom mirror, looking like complete freaks with shit on our face. Levi decided to start rubbing his skin through the thin mask, while I applied the gold liquid onto my face. By the time I’m finished, I look like a golden penny, and Levi just finds it _hilarious_.

“You look like the damn, um, shit – tin-man! But the gold version.”

“You always try and say some clever shit but you fail.”

“Not true –“ At this point, Levi decided to lift the bottom half of the mask to actively speak about how goofy I look. “ – besides, I don’t have to say much, you look like a disappointment.”

“You look like a rejected sperm.” I can hardly contain my laughter at this point. Levi peers at his reflection in the mirror and chuckles as well. He smooths the product down once more, making him unable to speak, and reaches for my cheeks. I jerk away immediately. “What are you doing? Get away – _AH_!” Levi’s fingers dig underneath the dry mask on my face. Instantly, pain travels through my body, making me stand on my toes to get away from Levi’s grip. “No, _stop_!”

All I can hear is the deep rumble coming from Levi's throat. He is laughing. I pause for a few seconds, which ends up being my biggest mistake, because Levi grabs my face so roughly that I lose track of my balance and tumble to the floor. “God damn-it!” I try to shout. Yet, Levi doesn’t stop. He is still trying to tear the mask off my face, though he is flat on his ass. He is still laughing. Eventually, he rips the majority of it off through our mini-brawl. I end up tearing his off in rebuttal, though it isn’t harsh at all.

He is still laughing…I wonder why his laughter warms me up so much.

“You’re so fun to mess with.” Levi finally says after we make it back into my bedroom. He sits down on my bed near Eddy and stares at my tired form. I am currently rubbing my sore face with olive oil, making sure any redness will disappear by the time I have work tomorrow. “You make it so _easy_.”

“You just dragged me to the floor by my _facemask_. You are delusional. I am never doing this shit with you again.” I finish rubbing my skin and sit down on my side of the bed. I usually get the left, Levi the right. Levi scoffs and begins to ruffle the covers over his legs.

“You say that every time,” He confidently says. “yet, you _always_ do it again.” I rub my temples and glance over at Levi, who is starting to lay down. Eddy notices and jumps off the bed to sleep in his bed on the floor. Thus, the separation between Levi and I becomes shorter. I shuffle the covers as well, making sure not to jerk it away from him.

“Whatever,” I respond. After a few seconds of silence, I decide to bring it up. But it becomes difficult on which one to bring up first. “So…are you actually thinking about moving in with your sister?” I softly ask. Levi ceases from trying to get comfortable on the bed and instead begins to untie his hair.

“I don’t know. What – you gonna miss me or something?” He glances over at me with humor shown. “Don’t worry, I’ll always be around.”

“So, you are?”

“Who knows…”

“Can you stop fucking with me?” I sigh with irritation and leans against the bedpost roughly. Levi shrugs his shoulders and lets the side of his headset on his palm as he looks up at me. “You play too damn much.”

“You know how I said that…” He pauses for a millisecond. “… how I said that you always do something again, no matter how many times you think it is wrong?” I nod my head discretely, though I don’t know where he is going with this. “So…why didn’t you do it again?”

 _Why didn’t you do it again?_ I do that same as him, leaning the side of my head on my palm. We both talk to each other like a couple of gossip girls. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to respond the best I can. “You said I could forget.”

“You must get a kick out of defiance. Is that the reason why when is it something you like, you don’t want to do it anymore?” His voice gets so soft that I can barely hear him. I lick my lips and try to think of something to say. “Where does that come from? Why do you think like that?” He questions me. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders.

“Where did you come from, telling me to forget, if you couldn’t? You said it was an accident.”

“It obviously wasn’t, you dumbass.”

“Then what do you want me to do, Levi?” I say quietly. Desperation is so obvious on the tip of my tongue. I gaze at Levi in the rather dark room, wishing I had that moonlight so I could see him shine once more. “I don’t know what to do.” _Should I desire it, or leave it alone? Yes or no? Which is better?_ _Tell me, please, I need to know_.

“You make everything such a big fucking deal, Eren!” The sound of his voice booming shocks me. Levi jerks up from his comfortable slouch and crosses his legs over each other as he glares at me. “This isn’t a goddamn romance novel. Either you tell me what the fuck you want or Isabel’s offer gets juicer with time! You hear me?” He slaps my leg harshly. “Stop fucking with me.”

“Are you threatening me?” I ask him as I sit up from my slouch as well. “You don’t even know what you want! You are the one who told me it was an accident!”

“I can’t believe how senseless you are. It’s like I’m speaking to a brick-fucking-wall.” Levi runs his hand through his hair. “Listen, what you are doing involves _two_ people. You are fucking me over too, Eren! I don’t know what type of personal vendetta you have against attraction but frankly, it’s one of the most irritating aspects of your fucked personality.”

“You –“ I point to him with defiance. “ – told me, it was an _accident_.”

“Okay, and I’m telling you right now that I never regret my actions. No matter what I do, I stay true to what I do.” Levi pauses for a few seconds. “- except that one time. But that isn’t the point. Honestly, that doesn’t even matter. I just want you to be honest with yourself, you dumbass stupid lawyer! Isn’t that a part of your job?”

“Shut up, Levi.” I respond. “I am honest with myself, and I _don’t_ want you.” As the words fly out my mouth like bullets, I can almost feel one of them repelling and shooting through my chest. I expect to look up from my lap and see Levi… well… I don’t know what I expected. For all I knew, he could have shrugged and responded that he _knew_ that. That he didn’t want me to want him. But instead, as I glance up from fiddling with my fingers, Levi is still sitting across from me with no emotion crossing his face.

“ _’I don’t want to smoke weed’_ – you said. _‘I’m never going out with you again’_ – you said _. ‘I’m never letting you in my room again’_ – you said. _‘I’m never doing that again’_ \- you said.” Levi sprawls on. I scrunch my eyebrows as I try and figure out where exactly he is heading with this. “But you always, _always_ do it again.” He shakes his head discretely. “I’m not making the first move again, Eren.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not either.”

“That’s because you are a pussy.”

“I’m not.” I stubbornly say. “I’m the one who pulled you in. You were the pussy.”

“It’s not like we will ever figure it out, because you know, you won’t ever do something instinctive. It’s all about the realism. Give me a fucking break, Eren.” Levi waves his hand at me reclusively. “All I’m asking is that if something is there, confirm it. If not, I’m leaving. And that’s that. There are no regrets after today. Period.”

I’m mocking him in my head, but I know he is right. It was foolish of me to think everything would have gone back to normal after the kiss. It was so dumb of me. I should have known it would have changed. I shake my head and start to run my hand down my face. Levi watches me from the corner of his eye. He must have taken it as an answer, because he starts to lay down on the bed slowly. I can’t see his face, because last minute he decided to not sleep facing me like he usually does. In talking like this, it’s like we were already lovers.

Seconds after he lays down, facing away from me, I begin to lay down as well. Just like me to leave everything unsolved. I have the strong urge to punch myself in the face, scream at myself in the mirror at how fucking weak I am. I rub my hand down my face once more and turn the lamp’s light near me off. All I can hear at this point is the sound of Eddy’s soft snores and the outside wind terrorizing my windows.

Just as I am about to close my eyes and indulge in dreams I’ll never be able to manifest, I feel Levi turning in the bed toward me. His head lays delicately on my pillow, plumping his cheek but not diminishing the annoyance shown on Levi’s face. I turn my head, and there we lay, gazing at each other with fluctuating expressions. Our breaths hit each other’s faces, and I have the strong urge to tell Levi his breath stinks just to cure the mood. But it doesn’t. His breath smells like fine mint and pizza sauce. Would have been unappealing with anyone else, but for Levi, it was essential.

“Your breath stinks,” Levi says boldly. My cheeks tug a little bit and eventually, a wide smile grows on my face. I can tell he is trying to hide his, but he ends up smirking just as large. I let out a huff and shuffle my head on the pillow below me.

“Yours tasted like –“ I respond. “- pizza.” Levi rolls his eyes at my confession and licks his own lips.

“My breath tasted that way?”

“…You know what I meant.”

“They probably taste the same right now.” He closes his eyes slowly and shutters with a remaining grin. “But you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

“I want to know.” It flows out my mouth like a river. “I wish I could know.”

“Your self-control is unflattering.”

“I feel the same about your eagerness.”

“Are you implying we should take it slow? Like in the movies?” Levi lifts his head up from the pillow and attacks me with his metallic-like orbs. “Should our first kiss be at the beach, the movies, or maybe after a midnight date – so we can feel as cliché as possible?” The humor emitting from his voice warms me. I chuckle at his suggestions and openly study his homey form.

“Go to sleep, you psycho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've recently been rethinking the plot of this story, mostly because ideas of mine keep popping up left and right. it is especially different when you type the scenes out and sometimes they don't merge with how the story's vibe is (before, I had these two kissing in the chapter 8 area, glad I didn't though). so, in saying that, i've been rethinking the 'friends with benefits' concept, mostly because what I have planned for them is much more complex. so i'll probably be removing the tag and we'll see how it goes. :) 
> 
> also, next chapter is the beginning of what I call the 'Levi Arc'! chapters will mostly center around Levi's way of life (we are not excluding Eren at all, however, because he still has some drama to deal with). Nonetheless, we will get a much more in-depth view of Levi's past and his own issues. 
> 
> hmmm, is there anything else I need to say? oh yeah, i've been slacking on replying to reviews lately because i'm shit, so i'll be replying to every review on this chap. :) see you guys next week!


	21. A Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: explicit/offensive language and implications of abuse  
> warning #2: Grey Goose'd up Levi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you start using memes in your story, you've officially been requested to undergo natural selection

The house yawns and I wake up startled with a pounding headache and sweating swamps. My fingers clench the silky pillow under my head in anguish. Groaning, I lift myself off the fabric and analyze the room around me. There is no figure lying next to me. There is only Eddy, snoozing delightfully after rightfully claiming his spot after Eren left for work.  My sore arm slowly bends to sit myself up from my slumber, but my throbbing headache makes me stop mid-rise.

“ _Fuck_.” I whisper to myself. My legs swing themselves over the bed and force my body up. I hurriedly make myself to the bathroom, wash my face, brush my teeth, and head out of the bedroom as soon as possible. Even after taking pain-killers, the migraine is still stabbing the back of my head. My feet stroll down the steps toward the kitchen, where I’m surprised to find Eren’s Mom cooking. You’d think she would stay hidden until the fire dies down.

“Good morning.” She murmurs to me as she flips the bacon on the skillet before her. I hum in response and waltz over to the refrigerator. Pulling out a grape juice carton, I drink out of the box and purr in pleasure at the bitter taste. Finishing, I notice Carla glaring at me like I’m crazy.

“What?” I response after wiping my mouth from the liquid. She shakes her head and re-focuses her attention on the food.

“That doesn’t smell like grape juice at all. And did anybody tell you how unsanitary it is to drink from the carton?” She tuts her lips at me and throws the last piece of bacon on the paper towel near her. I close the refrigerator door and grab a glass cup from the cabinets. As I pour the juice into the glass, I respond.

“It has a little Hennessey in it. I went over this with your son – it’s my version of coffee. Don’t tell Eren, though.” I sip on the mixture happily. “He’d throw it out. He doesn’t know yet.”

“No shit.” Carla turns off the stove and tosses the tongs in the sink. Her hands grab the plate full of bacon to place it on the kitchen table. “He left early for work. He usually always waits for breakfast.” She whispers to me. I want to just sip on my ‘coffee’, pucker my lips, and roll my eyes in the other direction. Instead, I rub the back of my head and lean against the counter.

“Maybe he had a meeting.” My voice answers. Carla glances over at me and crosses her arms.

“You were there…weren’t you?” She looks so angry while she talks to me. God, it’s like I’m speaking to a way worse version than Eren. “Where did you guys go? Don’t tell me you did any stupid shit.”

 _‘Oh, we just went to a luxury hotel, smoked, kissed, and had several exciting fights. Nothing out of the ordinary.’_ I think in the back of my head. Coughing, I answer accordingly. “Some place.” Carla squints her eyes at me and crosses her arms in an accusatory way.

“Great.” She shakes her head and slams a rather strong glass plate onto the table. With a scowl on her face, she begins to place pieces of food onto the plate with irritation showing in her movement. “I worried for exactly _nothing_. You two probably went out to some fucking party, huh? Had the time of your lives while I suffered from self-pity in this stupid fucking house.” She grabs a fork like a knife and begins to walk toward the living room without a single care about the words coming out of her mouth. I try to keep my lips closed, just for the sake of keeping a good relationship with her, but I find that I can’t help myself.

“It’s like you actually _are_ the victim,” I mutter. “You know, like you found Eren and I fucking on a thousand-dollar couch –“

“- Don’t even say that.” Carla’s face recoils as she turns around to glare at me. “ – that is disgusting. And what do you mean? Eren knows me. He knows I would never…I would never do something to purposely hurt him. All of this is just a big misunderstanding.”

“You are so entitled that it is ridiculous.” I ignore whatever excuses she has to say. Eren, yeah, her _son_ , would probably take those words like precious gold. He would forgive her as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if he hadn’t just spent three days mourning over it like a homeless puppy dog. He would argue with her, just to feel like he did put up a fight, and cuddle against her bosom once again. I refuse to see such bullshit. Especially after seeing him under such distress. I’ll be damned if it becomes another thing to sweep under the rug.

“Entitled. Selfish. Self-absorbed.” I begin once more. Carla scrunches her eyebrows up at me and places a hand on her hip. Her figure is intimidating and threatening me to continue, like something horrid will actually happen if I do. I ignore all the food on the table and continue to take sips of my _coffee_ , though I know it will make everything worse.

“Consider me the part of Eren that really tells you to fuck off, hmm?” I cock my hip in response. “I don’t want to sound like an asshole or anything, but that fact you are only thinking about yourself right now is _really_ eye-opening.” My face contorts slightly as I mock her voice condescendingly. “’Oh, how dare he leave me? I mean, I know I committed adultery in front of his face, but what about _me_?” The minute the last words exit my mouth, Carla slams her porcelain plate on the counter and runs up to me intimidatingly. We stand toe to toe, with her looking down on me because I obviously don’t have the height thing figured out.

But either way, my eyes commit homicide. I can smell the potent musk of bacon on her breath, along with the sweet scent of apple juice. Her lips quiver and I can see her figure slightly shaking. Her face is so red that it reminds me that when Eren is mad, he doesn’t turn red much. His eyes turn a fiery turquoise. I shake my head of the thoughts and scoff in front of her face.

“You don’t know anything.” She almost growls at me. Her hand slaps the counter next to her. “You are only here because you are that bitch’s _son_. You are nothing. Don’t ever in your life try to tell me about my own son.” I openly roll my eyes, only fueling her more. “You won’t be here long, so count your fucking days. You hear me?”

“Obviously.” Ah, such a sly reply. _I really want to get kicked out, huh?_

“I wish so much _hurt_ on you.” The way she whispers it brings an unsettling feeling in my gut. “I hope bad things come your way. I pray, because ever since you’ve shown up, I’ve received nothing but bad luck.” I try and keep my composure, but the way she murmurs the words to me leaves a rotten feeling within me. I lick my lips and turn away from her. Before she can continue her reckless spewing, I take a few steps away.

“Things can’t get any worse.” And with that, I begin my walk back up to Eren’s room. The rotten feeling in my gut remains, along with the throbbing headache I woke up with. Just what I needed, an argument with Eren’s Mom and the underlying need to swallow a million painkillers. I bob my head in exasperation and continue to stroll to his room. Eddy is waiting at the door for me, tail wagging and entire body full of joy. I smile and bend down to pet him with endearment.

There is a such thing as the calm before the storm. At the tender age of ten, it was the thirty-minute wait time at the Ackerman household. It consisted of me sitting on the floor, watching a rather complicated crime television show with Uncle Kenny on the couch, and my Mom running around the house while she got ready for work. It was so calm that it diminished the severity of the situation. Or more so, it made me not think about the fact she was running around with four-inch crimson heels, short skirts, skimpy tops with makeup scattered on her face. It made me stop thinking about the fact I wasn’t allowed on the couch because Kenny said he didn’t like it when I was so close to him.

It diminished all the problems we had – all the problems we ignored – for only about thirty minutes. That was it. Then it was back to normal.

Sometimes Kenny would yell at her for walking in front of the television, making her scream back in irritation. Sometimes it was funny, and sometimes it wasn’t. Then there were times when Mom would start throwing things in the other room, complaining about how messy Uncle Kenny was and how she could never find her shit. The times I despised the most is when Kenny would be in one of those _moods_.

In living with Kenny for those past few months, it made me thankful that my Mom had the decency to raise me by herself before introducing me to him. He was loud, rude, abrasive, grumpy, and isolated. Even so, he showed me more love than my mother ever did, so it is still hard for me to this day to avoid thinking about him. Sometimes I think about what would have happened if he raised me. Hell, dare I say I would have probably turned out better. Though he is a complete asshole, he was always there to tell me when I was wrong.

Then again, he was the one who encouraged me to drink beers like iced water, so I probably would have died from alcoholism. He is a classy drunk, as he calls it, and I’m pretty sure all our interactions consisted of him high out of his mind. If so, I give kudos, because I could never down ten shots of tequila and manage a reasonable argument with my mother.

Either way, I spent a nice amount of time around him once I hit double-digits. Mom moved out of that raggedy apartment and let me stay with Kenny. Only me, because Mom had other places to sleep at. But it also had to do with the fact Kenny hated Mom. I could guess a million reasons why.

It also had to do with the fact Mom didn’t want to deal with Kenny’s _moods_. The times where he’d look at us with just pure _hate_. We called it his mood-swings, because they only happened a few times a week. Usually, he would just sit on the couch, glaring at the television and prepared to administer any hurtful comment to my mother. He was a predator. When the right time came, he would say something that would make Mom, the prey, snap completely.

“What did you say?” I lift my head up from playing with a string on my shirt. Mom stands there, hair combed to perfection with a tight white dress on. She glares at Uncle Kenny while she places her crimson red pumps on her feet. Kenny shakes his head and peers at her with disgust.

“You heard me.” He growls out. I put my head back down and fiddle with the string again. The serenity was good while it lasted. “Don’t act deaf now. Ya’ got me takin’ care of ya fuckin’ kid like _I’m_ the dad while you go out and spread it for random bastards. I don’t have time for this shit every fuckin’ day!” His voice suddenly gets louder. These are the moments he lives for.

Mom scrunches up her eyebrows and cocks her hip. “Kenny, _I_ don’t have time for _this_. Go take a nap or some shit.”

“Ma’ would hate you for this. Talked about you bein’ pretty n’ shit and you just turned out to be a slut with a son you don’t take care of. I don’t have kids.” He points to himself. “ _I_ don’t have _kids_.” Mom ignores him as she heads for the front door. It drives Uncle Kenny crazy. “Ay, you hear me!”

“Yes, I hear you Kenny. Frankly, I’m in a good mood and I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“Course you don’t. If you’ll ignore your own son, you’ll ignore me too, hmm?” Kenny lifts himself off the couch and starts to walk over to my mother with anger in his form. As he gets up, I notice the drink on the floor tip over by his foot and deliver the scent of alcohol. I continue to play with my string – just to try and block it all out. “Don’t think I don’t know you still see ‘em. Still see ‘em even though Levi _told_ you.” Mom grabs the front door knob, but Kenny slams it closed. “Answer me!”

“What the fuck do you want, Kenny!? Can’t you see I’m tryna go to work!? I don’t wanna hear this right now!” She screeches. She turns around and pushes my uncle harshly. He falls back and clenches his fist. He would never hit Mom. I never had to worry about that. He never hit her before.

Even so, I lick my lips nervously and glance up at the two.

“Tell me you not goin’ to see ‘em. Promise me.” Kenny mutters to her with grief hidden in his voice. “This ain’t even me bein’ like that, Kuchel. I’m serious.” Mom glares up at her brother stubbornly. Her lip is quivering and her whole form is shaking with vexation. She clenches her fist and eventually punches Kenny in the chest. He falls back once more, but not much.

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is. I put ‘em in that damn bed for a reason! You goin’ to visit him for what? He can’t pay ya!”

“I want to make sure he is okay.” Her voice shakes. “This is all…a misunderstanding, Kenny. I’m not gonna break up with him just because Levi wants to be a fuckin’ brat!” Uncle Kenny slams his fist into the wall next to him and delivers his next vocal blow.

“You’re fuckin’ delusional! That boy told you! He _told_ _you_ and I had to take care of it, now you goin’ back? You said you wouldn’t!”

“He is lying!” Mom screeches. My heart thumps quicker and quicker and I wish I could block it all out. “He is lying! He just wants attention, I swear he is Kenny! He is not like that! And when I find out Levi is tellin’ lies, he is leaving. I don’t give a shit how old he is! Imma find out.” Her last words linger. “I’ll find out the truth. Scratch that, I _know_ the truth. Don’t stand there and try to tell me what my husband has don –“

Her words are cut off by the rebuttal of a slap. My head lifts up quickly at the sound and I see my Mom’s face tilted to the left, cheek glimmering crimson and eyes watering. Kenny’s form towers over her in not only dominance, but sadness. Grief. Disappointment. Regret. He backs away from her and shakes his head. Mom’s voice continues to quiver, now sounding like she is freezing to death. “F-fuck you, Kenny.” She grabs the handle to the front door and exits the house.

Uncle Kenny instantly turns around when she leaves and looks me in the eye. I diminish the surprise on my face and avoid connecting stares with him. I simply continue to fiddle with the string on my shirt. He walks over to the couch and sits down slowly with a deep, hefty sigh. He doesn’t say anything for the next few seconds. Soon, I feel his hand on my hair, ruffling my locks comfortingly.

“You’re not lying.” – he whispers to me. “I believe you, alright?” I don’t respond. His hand leaves my head, and he lightly clasps the plastic cup that spilled on the floor. He hands it to me. “Go get me somethin’ to drink.” I seize the cup, happy to do something instead of sitting on the floor. He watches me stroll into the kitchen to get him something to drink.

I grab a heavy glass bottle and pop it open. Pouring the potent liquor, I try and not think about what happened. This isn’t the first time it happened, and it won’t be the last.

At that point, I wish I hadn’t said anything at all.

Eren’s Mom reminds me of Uncle Kenny, but also my Mom. I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. She has the stubbornness of my Mom, but the love from Uncle Kenny. Her words are harsh, just like my Mom, but they have a protective intent, like Kenny. Maybe a real parent is supposed to have both.

I sit in Eren’s bedroom for the majority of the day. I lay there, having snapshots of the past, but unwilling to go downstairs and raid for something to drink. My body feels heavy, though it sort of has something to do with Eddy who is snoozing on my stomach. My eyes just stare at the ceiling until I don’t even realize where I am for a while.

Then I hear a short ring. It snaps me out of my zone and causes me to look over at my phone on the charger. Grabbing it, I turn it on and see a new message from an unknown number.

**718-XXX-XXXX**

_I changed my phone number, thief._

_12:45PM_

I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion.

**Levi**

_i have a lot of boyfriends so idk you sir_

_12:46PM_

**718-XXX-XXXX**

_Stop fucking with me. This is Eren._

_12:46PM_

A chuckle emits from my mouth.

**Levi**

_who?_

_12:47PM_

It takes him about half a minute to reply.

**Boyfriend #98**

[ _[gif sent]_ ](https://ibb.co/L5yNCXv)

_12:48PM_

After changing Eren’s name, I open up the message and am met with a stupid picture that I guess is supposed to decipher how he is feeling. I let out an ugly snort and save the picture.

**Boyfriend #98**

_did you just change my name to “boyfriend #98”?_

_12:49PM_

**Levi**

_shit wait you can see that? whoops_

_12:49PM_

**Boyfriend #98**

_I will block you. change it. and we are not boyfriends_

_(2) and why is it #98? Is that a joke or are you fr?_

_12:50PM_

**Levi**

_serious. i’m pretty popular. ur missing out._

_12:50PM_

I’m not serious at all. He would be number two if he actually had the balls to initiate anything.

 **Boyfriend #98** _changed your nickname to_ **Girlfriend #99**

**Girlfriend #99**

_so, not only r you calling me a girl, but a slut as well. cute. be careful when you get home._

_(2) btw, ur last girlfriend is ugly._

_12:52PM_

**Boyfriend #98**

_i’m telling her ur talking shit_

_12:53PM_

I scoff, though I know it is all a joke.

**Girlfriend #99**

_add her on here, i’ll tell her myself._

_12:53PM_

**Boyfriend #98**

_gotta go hang out with the other 98, text you later._

_(2) [[image sent]](https://ibb.co/ZX4sXjX)_

_12:54PM_

The picture he sends leaves me smiling and clutching my phone like a teenage girl. When I realize that I’m spending too much time staring at our messages, I look up from the phone and try to stop my too giddy mood. At this point, I really _am_ a teenage girl. I pet Eddy before me. It didn’t really matter what my mind said. It didn’t stop me from reading our messages over and over again. It makes me happy.

After thirty minutes of playing on my phone, I am left in silence again. God, I need to find a fucking hobby. I sigh and pucker my lips as I think about what I am going to do. I push Eddy to the side, which ends up waking him up, and stand up from the bed. The last thing I should do is raid Eren’s room, though it would be fun to see his reaction.

There is nothing more agonizing than sitting up in this room alone. There is no television. No games. No drinks. Nothing to do to fill my time. I think about going downstairs and possibly watching a movie in the living room, but when I remember Eren’s Mom is still lounging around the house, it stops me instantly. There is nothing for me to do.

I look across the room nonchalantly, staring at a distinct, salmon-colored pencil Eren left on his dresser. He uses it to cross days off his calendar. What else could I do besides _think_?

“Why’d you color it pink?” Uncle Kenny questions my coloring on a drawing. I glance up at him and then back down at the figure. I decided to draw a butterfly with pink wings and a purple head. It wasn’t the perfect drawing, but it was just something to past time until Mom got home. Kenny leans over me and scoffs at the childish picture. “Pink and purple? Who taught you that?”

“They look nice together,” I comment. Kenny lets out a deep rumble for a laugh and takes a swig of his beer. I scowl and glare over at him stubbornly. “What? Is it ugly?”

“I ain’t say that. Is just your ma’ ruins you every single day. Lemme teach you somethin -” He wiggles his finger at me to tell me to walk over. Getting up from the floor, I stroll over to him and place the picture on his lap. Kenny points to the pink butterfly and peers up at me. “Are you a girl?” His pitch increases when he asks me. I flinch.

“No, sir.”

“You a fag?”

“I don’t know what that is.” I whisper softly. “I don’t know.” Kenny crumbles up the picture and throws it on the floor. He doesn’t tell me what it is, nor does he give a reason as to why the picture irritated him so much. He only tells me to sit back down and draw something else.

“An’ don’t use no pink or purple, you hear me?” He adds on. I nod my head and push the two colors away. I decide to use blue instead, because it pleased him. And instead of a butterfly, I drew a car. Kenny ends up enjoying the picture and telling me he will hang it in his room. I’ve kind of avoided the two colors since that day. It was almost like instinct to steer away from them.

I avert my eyes away from the pink pencil.

Ten minutes later, I’m in Eren’s basement, glossing my eyes over the familiar surroundings and waltzing over to the wine cellar. There is nothing else for me to do. Nothing else.

I’m surprised to find it unlocked. You would have though Carla would put extra precaution down here, especially because she pretty much hates me now. But I don’t indulge in it much. I have bottles calling my name at this point.

The man of the hour is _Grey Goose Vodka_ \- the one that’ll make me forget the most. Excitement bubbles in my stomach. I snatch a glass from under the bar counter and carefully place it on the sleek, chocolate marble. The bottle has already been open, so it takes less than a second for it to get into the glass and soon flowing down my dry throat.

It tastes so bitter, so raw, so tangy. My face twists up and my eyebrows lift in slight anguish. It reacts in my stomach and leaves a burning sensation traveling up my throat. I diminish it by taking another drink, swallowing more liquid this time, and disregarding my stomach that is screaming at me to stop. It didn’t help that I haven’t eaten all day. Hell, it’s not like I eat much anymore either way.

I finish four glasses in the span of ten minutes. Leaning down on the counter with my elbows, I take a deep breath and let my head hang. I can feel my mind becoming foggier and my thoughts becoming more concerned about trivial things. I even forget I’m standing for a few seconds. When I realize, I let out an annoying laugh and lift my head up from the counter. This enables me to fall backward some, which only causes me to chuckle even more.

Putting the alcohol away is not even on my mind. My only concern is getting back in Eren’s room before his Mom catches me. I’d hate to get into an argument with her at this state. My mind gets hazier. Walking up the steps gets more difficult. Moving makes the effects go even quicker.

It feels like I’m walking up to heaven, but the light doesn’t get any closer.

I miss Uncle Kenny. He drives me crazy and he is fucked up for kicking me out, but I miss him so much. He sends me cards sometimes. Most of them are the cheap dollar store kinds, but it’s the thought that counts. I probably won’t be getting anymore these days. He has no idea about my new address.

I miss Isabella too. I may actually consider living with her. I miss her so much. Does she miss me too?

I don’t even wanna think about Momma. I wish Eren was my Mom. I let out a rather obnoxious laugh and giggle unconsciously. Yeah, _yeah_. He’d be great. I wish he would kiss me again. It sucks to wait. I’m impatient. It probably won’t ever happen again.

Maybe I’ll go see Erwin again. I miss him too. I wish we would kiss one last time. Eren kisses well. Or…Erwin. I get their names mixed. Do I have a thing for guys whose name start with ’E’? Possibly.

It feels nice to think like this. I never want to get rid of this. I love it so much. A smile builds on my face as I cuddle into one of Eren’ soft, silk pillows. I can feel Eddy licking my ear, which makes me chuckle even more as I swap him away with my hand. I love this feeling. I never want to get rid of it.

“Levi, we need to talk.” – but we did. You said you didn’t want to do it anymore, Eren. I _get_ it. Don’t tell me again. I get it. “Levi? Can you hear me? Get up.” It’s so comfy. I love this feeling.

I never, _ever_ want to get rid of it.

My heavy eyes are pried open by warm fingertips. Opening them, I see Eren standing in front of me, dressed in a traditional black and white business suit. He glowers over my form and checks my temperature by placing his palm on my forehead. “Are you sick?” I smile. Eren leans in and I think for a second, he is going to kiss me again. My lips pucker up and my heart starts thumping quickly. He gets closer and closer and –

He sniffs. He leans back quickly and bends down on his knees. “ _Seriously_ , Levi.” I moisten my lips and peer down at his hand on the bed. I capture it and interlock our fingers, just wishing for warmth and affection. That’s all I wanted at a time like this. Eren doesn’t reject it. I can’t see how he looks through my watery and fatigued eyes, but in my head, he is in love with me with flickering pink hearts above his skull.

“I shouldn’t have unlocked that fuckin’ wine cellar. I knew you’d do this.” He murmurs gently to himself. My face scrunches up and I clench his hand as hard as I can in frustration. He did good. I want to tell him thank you. He did good. He didn’t do anything wrong. This is what I wanted. “I hate seeing you like this.” I feel his other hand gliding through my silky, raven locks. He itches my head and I feed into it. “I’m going to get you some water. Stay here.”

My grip on his hand doesn’t cease. In fact, it gets even tighter when he says that. He tries to pry my hand away. “Levi, let go.” I hum in response. “ _Levi_.” I pull his hand and instantly wrap my arms around his neck tightly. He grunts as he almost falls on top of me, stopped by his other hand. “Can you just sleep or something?”

“I’m waiting, Eren.” I slur out. “Do it whenever you’re ready, but I’m _always_ ready.” I whisper in his ear. His entire body shudders before he pulls away from me. He sways his head and snatches his hand away from me. I grab it again instantly afterward.

“God, you are such a damn _weirdo_.”

“’Em just sayin, _you_ and _me_?” I point to him discretely. “- best couple ever. I swear to you.” He raises his eyebrow with humor and a small grin. “You are the apple of my pie.”

“Levi –“

“The nut to my berry. You know what I’m saying? I _want_ you.”

“Yeah, I get it, but can you please let go –“

“I want you inside of me.”

“Alright, this got weird _real quick_ , Levi –“ I feel Eren pull his hand away from my tight grip. “You really need to get sober again. You are too much to deal with at four in the afternoon.”

“You don’t like me like this?” I question. “I’m perfect. Chill and ready. _Ready_ , Eren. I am so fuckin’ ready. Take me out!” I raise my hands up. “ _Run a train on me_. You know what that means? It means –“

“I really don’t want to know. I’m going to get you some water. _Please_ , stay quiet while I do. I’d rather not have Mom apart of this too.” I extend my hands and gesture myself zipping my lips. Eren rolls his eyes and walks out of the room, knowingly having Eddy on his trail.

I swear I probably fell asleep for a few minutes because Eren shows back up in what seems like a second later. He is holding a glass of ice water and pills in his palm. He places the pills on the counter and hands me the water. I grab it, even though I’m still laying down, and try to drink it from a horizontal position. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work, because I end up spilling water all down my shirt and onto Eren’s bed.

“What the _fuck_ , sit your ass up!” Eren shouts and tilts the glass back up. “Listen, I know you’re drunk, but I know you still have common sense!” I can’t hold back my subtle giggles. Eren rolls his eyes and holds the glass to my lips. I laugh once more and take a sip.

The taste gets to me. I spit the water back into the glass and glare down at it in suspicion. “The fuck is in that? That taste awful.” Eren look at me like I’m crazy and gestures the water stubbornly.

“It’s water!”

“That’s not just water.”

“It is –“ He gazes down at the liquid and smells it. “…Mom may have put some lemons in it, but it’s not that sour for you to do all that, Levi.”

“I fucking hate lemons.” My fingers reach for my tongue and begin scrapping it with the urge to get the taste off my tongue. “I don’t like it.” That feeling of utopia fades so quick. My heart starts thumping and I can’t get away from the taste. Eren watches me with curiosity and I want to scream at him to get me something else to drink. Soda, real water, preferably that delicious Grey Goose sitting in the basement – _anything_.

There is something worse than loneliness. There is nothing worse than expecting something to be so good, so fun, and so joyful – and the littlest thing fucks it all up. It’s like going to a clothing store that has no clothes. Or ordering food from a place that has no food. _Expectations_ – those expectations fuck everyone over.

“I’m taking a nap.” – my voice whispers out. I don’t get a chance to see the look on Eren’s face. He calls out my name once more, but I don’t answer. I flip over on his bed, facing away from him, and lay my head on the pillow.

Talk about a complete fucking one-eighty.

_….I remember when my step-father was in my life, he enjoyed his steaks bleeding onto our plastic plates, and would often mix the liquid with hardly mushed mashed potatoes and soggy green beans. He’d down it all with a cold Corona beer and lemon. Lemon or lime. The memory of it brings a chill up my back._

_This time, as I fall asleep, all I can smell and taste are lemons_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates may or may not be a little slower. college starts back up next week. sighhh.  
> follow me on insta, I make cute videos for every update because I like having an aesthetic. yay.

**Author's Note:**

> I always appreciate reviews, you feel me?  
> Tumblr: Klouee (pronounced Clue)  
> Instagram: Iamkloue


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